Slowdance On The Inside
by justanothermarionette
Summary: "She slowly pulls out of me, and there is a whimper at the loss. Of being completely full or of being absolutely wrapped up; neither of us ever knows. And every time, we pretend not to care which of us it was. That is, until we're apart and alone; separate. But in this moment, I revel in her breath and in her essence covering me. The rest will come; the rest starts now." plus Beth!
1. Chapter 1

**AN: So, if I'm lucky enough to have readers who are wondering what happened to Stay On My Side Tonight, I sincerely apologize. I've hit such a road block with that story. But this one would NOT get out of my head, and I feel much more passionate about it than the other. It will be slightly AU and mainly set in the future. I feel I have a lot to explore with this, and I've been having so much fun writing it. I hope you guys enjoy. (:**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything except a computer and a guitar.**

* * *

**Chapter One: [Fork and Knife]**

This is what we do. I'm bent over a kitchen counter, my blouse's buttons have been torn and it's been thrown across the room. My panties have been dragged down my legs. "Leave the heels on," though. They're her favorite. My breaths are labored, and I feel her. I feel my hard nipples slide across the cool marble countertop in a nice contrast to my heated skin. I feel soft hands gripping my hips so much tighter than they did that first time. And I feel her; thighs to thighs, two slim fingers sliding in and out of me at an insane pace. This is what we do. There is never a preamble. We kiss roughly, clothes are torn away. We never kiss during. I honestly don't remember if that rule was spoken like the others.

I'm getting close now. And she's been holding back for a few minutes to make sure I get off; my knight in shining armor.

"God, Rae. You're so fucking tight." I'm clamping around her now, but she powers through. I love this part. She makes me cum like nobody else can. I've searched for someone. A soft enough boy, a hard enough girl. Nobody gets me like Quinn. Nobody has ever been as deep as Quinn. Nobody has ever been as fast and hard as Quinn. Nobody has ever lasted as long or fucked me as many times in a given time as Quinn. Nobody will ever be as perfect as Quinn.

"Oh, fuck." Here I go. "Oh, fuck. I'm there, I'm there."

"Fuck." My whole body stiffens and then trembles and I gush into her delicate palm. She's never far behind. At the rapid pace that she's rubbing her wetness against my ass and with a final expletive falling from her soft lips, I finally feel her warm body collapse against mine. I can feel her soft, firm breasts pressed against my back. We struggle to catch our breath, completely in sync. When I inhale, I raise her body up. When I exhale, tired, she molds to me on the way down, over and over, our honey mingling together and dripping languidly down my thighs.

She slowly pulls out of me, and there is a whimper at the loss. Of being completely full or of being absolutely wrapped up; neither of us ever knows. And every time, we pretend not to care which of us it was. That is, until we're apart and alone; separate. But in this moment, I revel in her breath and in her essence covering me. The rest will come; the rest starts now.

"That was good." She's finally regained her breath. "I have to go." She playfully slaps my ass before walking away. I can't help but grin at her antics. She always seems so light and free of... _concern_. I'll allow it to be contagious while she's still in my apartment. I straighten up from my bent position and she tosses me an over sized shirt from the clean laundry I haven't put away yet. I slip it on and walk over to the refrigerator, intentionally swaying my hips, like she likes. I can hear her fumbling with her zipper, and as I turn around she has her blouse on and is pulling on her coat. "Hey." I wait for her to look from one of her buttons to throw a bottle of water her way.

"So thoughtful," she says in an airy, slightly mocking tone. I appreciate that she still manages to make this feel like a feather. "Alright, Rae." She makes her way over to me and gives me a short kiss on the cheek. "I'll talk to you later." And then she smiles at me. That's always the last thing, a final bullet, and she knows she can't stay a moment after the kiss. She needs to scramble to the door and get the hell out, and that's just what she does now, just like before, just like always. And I'm grateful.

I look down at my disheveled appearance and sigh exasperatedly. I need a shower, now, or I'll feel Quinn all over my thighs for the rest of the day. It's bittersweet, washing her away. But I don't let it get me down. I know she'll be back. I'll be immersed in her again soon; probably tonight.

* * *

"You're late!"

"I know, I know. I'm sorry."

"Have a nice morning?" He asks with a wicked glint in his eyes. Jesse's such a brat. There's really no other word for it. He's perfectly aware of how _nice_ my morning was.

"Wonderful, thank you." I reply sharply. We do this, he and I. We like to banter back and forth in a faux flirtatious manner about our sexual escapades. He knows it makes me sting a little less if I'm able to pretend like I have some control over it all. Well, I suppose I do have a necessary amount of control concerning Quinn, waiting for me somewhere. But Jesse lets me trick myself into thinking that I have it in my grasp, glossing over the reality; the fact that I tossed my control away willingly some time ago, and I'm not looking for it.

"You two are such freaks. God, that creepy little smirk on your face." He scrunches up his nose, feigning disgust.

"I'm fairly certain we're within the realms of 'normal,' possibly even vanilla."

"Oh, don't give me that. I see all the little marks, Rachel." He rises from his seat and saunters over to me, taking my hair off of my neck. "Ooh! What's that?" He mocks surprise.

"You stop that." I slap his hand away and fix my hair to simultaneously hide the hickeys on my neck and the soft, pink lines that trail from my shoulder and disappear down into my blouse. "That isn't 'freaky,' J. It's simply a testament to my impeccable ability to-"

"Oh… kay. No." He waves his hand in dismissal of the visual. "That's enough." I smirk at his interruption, which just makes him scoff and turn away to begin walking to our usual spot, closest to the stage, front and center. As we sit down, I pull out my phone to turn it off before class starts, but I see that I have a new text message.

**From Quinn - hey, what are you doing tonight?**

I grin a little before quickly replying.

**To Quinn: impatient already?**

**From Quinn: absolutely. **

I smirk. She's kinda cute, sometimes. Sometimes, I almost want… No.

**To Quinn: you know, you're gonna have to get pretty 'self involved' if I get that part.**

**From Quinn: wanky. are you free tonight?**

"Stop sexting your not-girlfriend, he's here." Jesse informs me that our stage acting teacher has arrived. Five minutes late. Diva.

I quickly type, **To Quinn: yup. I'll call you after class, **before turning my phone off and putting it back into my bag. "She's _not_ my girlfriend." I scowl at him.

"That's just what I said, love." He winks at me… He _winks_ at me. Brat.

* * *

"Well, I was gonna have a business meeting tonight, but it was cancelled, so I already have a sitter."

"Ok, that's cool. When should I expect you over?"

"Um, I was actually wondering if you wanted me to bring dinner? You know, I can. If you want." I stop dead in my tracks, surprised at the offer. We've never shared a meal since this _thing_ started. I may have to sit down. Bench, bench… Aha! "Rae? Did I lose you?"

It takes me a moment to get back to reality; the one where Quinn is talking about cellular reception, not my presence in her life. "Ah, no. I'm still here. Sorry."

"You all right?"

Oh god, I'm imagining her sounding concerned. "I'm fine!" I answer a little too loudly. And judging by the looks I'm receiving from other students, I definitely look how I feel; decidedly _not fine_.

"Ok… so, dinner?"

I take a deep, calming breath. Or at least that was my intention. It only serves to provide me with air to suddenly choke on. I cover the mouth piece as I try to collect myself.

"Jesus, Rachel. Are you ok?"

I suppose it's ok that she's concerned now. I do sound a little bit like I might be choking to death. "I'm fine. Wow, ok. Sorry, what were we saying?" I know exactly what we were saying.

"You good?"

"Yes."

"Ok. Um, I was just saying that I could bring dinner for us tonight."

"Right. Um, yeah. I guess that'd be all right." I'm going to _school_ for _acting_, and I can't even manage to scrounge up the tiniest bit of sincere enthusiasm. I hear her sigh on the other end of the line.

"You know what? Never mind. It's not that big a deal."

"No, Quinn-"

"No, I mean, now I can go somewhere that serves bacon. It's cool. I'll see you around seven-thirty."

"Qui-" She's hung up. What did I even do? I stand from the bench that so sweetly held my righteously confused body while I effectively pissed Quinn off. Somehow.

That's been a hard feat ever since Beth was born. Even at sixteen, and in such a rough spot, she became sympathetic and even-keel. She even forgave her mother and moved back in to the house she grew up in. Of course, Judy was an entirely different person when out from under Russell's thumb. _Bastard_.

Anyway, I still have one more class today and a coffee date with Kurt. I cannot let my _not_-girlfriend's attitude sour my mood. Is she even justified? We never have dinner! Ok. Ok. Stopping now.

* * *

"Gonna be honest, I'd be kinda pissed, too, if my friend couldn't even have dinner with me." He sips haughtily from his paper cup, the steam clouding his undoubtedly raised-in-arrogance brows.

"Kurt, Quinn is not my friend."

"Ouch."

"She never was. Just because she stopped laughing at and contributing to the teenage tragedy that was my high school experience, does not absolve her of her wrongdoing." I trace the lip of my own cup nervously. I already know that Kurt doesn't understand mine and Quinn's arrangement. He can't comprehend how two people who "carry on" the way we do could ever manage to stay so detached from one another. He says there's probably something severely wrong with both our psyches.

"Ok, you little drama queen, the stopping alone? Maybe not. But the apology that she offers to you every time she drinks too much? Probably a little more placating, no? Satisfying, even. Acceptable-"

"You are _so_ infuriating!" Kurt is _so_ infuriating. He thinks he's always right, and I'm always too stubborn to entertain the idea that he may, in fact, have some insight.

"I'm honest." He gives me that sickly sweet smile that he knows I can't stand. Unless Quinn is directing it to anyone other than myself. Kurt doesn't need to know that, though. No, not at all.

After I glare at him from behind my coffee for a moment, a new argument strikes me. "You know what? It's against the rules." I relax and settle back into my seat, completely satisfied with my reasoning. Kurt has nothing.

"Rachel! You have too many rules!" He leans across the table and lowers his voice to a menacing little whisper. "And none of them even make sense."

I sit stock straight up at that; surprised anyone would question my logic. Ever. "How dare you. All of my carefully thought out rules collectively work to put off something that I'm not ready for!" Oops. I wasn't supposed to vocalize that particular string of words. Oh god, he looks so smug now. He settles back into his seat, taking a long drink from his coffee, never once taking his icy blue eyes off of me. Is it even possible to _smirk_ with your _eyes_? Yes. Yes, it is. "I just meant that-"

"Oh, I know exactly what you meant." He sets his cup down carefully before proceeding, still with that smirk. In his _eyes_. "You just meant that you'd jump into Quinn Fabray's pale, little arms if she was to open them to you, and that scares the shit out of you, after everything."

"N-no… that's not at all what I'm saying." I avert his imploring gaze while saying without any real conviction, "I really don't expect you to understand, Kurt. Quinn and I are both extremely complex individuals, and this simple arrangement is what we both want. It's what we agreed to." I say the last part more to myself. We did agree. _"So what, like, friends with benefits?"_ She'd asked. _"I was thinking more like fuck buddies," _was my response. It had been very clear what I wanted, and she had agreed.

"What I understand, Rachel, is that you're being a coward." I immediately open my mouth to retaliate, but he holds up his hand in protest. "No. I'm right. And if you're too scared to have _dinner _with someone you've known since you were _fourteen_, you need to at least have the decency to back out before it becomes… entangled."

_Entangled_. _God_. He rises from his chair, coffee in hand, before leaning down to kiss my temple. "I love you." He looks me dead in the eye. "You know that?" I solemnly nod my head and he leaves.

* * *

She basically pounces on me as soon as I open the door. All I see is a flash of blonde and hazel before her mouth is attached to mine. She kicks the door closed behind her and spins us around, slamming me against it. She begins trailing harsh kisses down my neck as she slides the lock in place. I feel her smirk against my skin. "Look at that..." She licks at a spot where I know she left a mark this morning.

"Um, Quinn?" I manage to breathe out, already panting from her ministrations. All I get is a hum in response. "Um, do you wanna talk?"

"Do I look like I wanna talk to you?" She husks out between nips and licks.

Wait... to _me_? I tangle my fingers in her short locks and pull her head away from my body. I catch her little eye roll.

"What?"

"You don't wanna talk?" She furrows her brow in confusion and shakes her head, as if this should be obvious. Well, I suppose it usually is. I suck in a quick breath, readying myself. "I just thought... you know..." It appears she doesn't know. "Well, you seemed a little... upset? Maybe? When we were on the phone?"

"Nope." And then she dives onto my collarbone and sucks roughly, before abruptly pulling away to look me in the eye. "Why would I be upset?"

"I'm not sure." I say carefully.

She raises that sexy, smug brow of hers, and I feel myself clench around nothing. "Where were you for dinner?"

Ok, what? Now I'm confused. "Um, here." She looks disbelieving. "I just... made some pasta and marinara."

"It doesn't smell like pasta and marinara."

"The windows are open."

That blonde brow climbs impossibly higher. "So you had no plans?" I shake my head, no. "So you just didn't want to have dinner with me." It wasn't a question. All I can do is watch the color of her eyes change to something sinister, awaiting her next move. The corner of her lips twitch upwards devilishly. "You might wanna close those windows." She turns, stripping on the way to my bedroom. "We wouldn't want your neighbors to complain." I gulp deeply at the implication. I gush.

* * *

Oh, god. I know Jesse and I have a full disclosure policy when it comes to sex. But I can't tell him this. I can't tell him, or anyone, that I let Quinn tie me up to my headboard with my own scarves. I just can't.

I can't tell Jesse that Quinn pulsed three of her slim fingers inside of me, bringing me to the brink and then pulling out just before my release. I can't tell him that she did that four times. I can't tell anyone that Quinn refused to touch my clit for a fucking hour. I can't tell anyone the things she said to me. "You love this, don't you? You love when I'm in control. You couldn't stand it any other way. Nobody knows that about you, Rae. Just me. It'll always be me."

She never let me cum. And as some sort of consolation, I begged her to fuck my face.

God, the view was stunning. Her hands gripping the headboard above me. Eyes screwed shut tightly. Resting her forehead against the wall. Mouth slightly agape. She fucked herself against my mouth furiously, her breasts bounced with each thrust of her hips.

I can't tell anyone that she tangled one of her hands into my hair and opened her beautiful, hazy eyes. Or how her features softened to the most delicate I'd ever seen them. Hell, I can't even admit to myself that she whimpered my name just as she came into mouth. And I can't tell anyone that my heart fucking jumped into my throat.

"Rachel… _Please_…"

* * *

**AN2: If you've gotten this far, thank you so much. A special thanks to DAgron01 for proofing some of this and giving me some lovely feedback and encouragement. I seriously can't thank you guys enough. I'm still fairly new to this, and have not yet developed an ugly pride that would deter me from begging for reviews. Just saying.**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: God, the response was insane! Thank you, thank you, thank you for all the alerts favorites and reviews! You guys are the coolest. I know the girls may seem a little out of character, but this how I imagine outside the confinements of network television. Bueno notte.**

* * *

**Chapter Two: Heat Seeking Ghost of Sex**

_Lima, Ohio - Senior Year_

"You should go home. Try to get some sleep."

"I've been sleeping just fine, thank you." I haven't been. I haven't slept in two days. I've left the room three times; I needed to change out of that white dress, I needed to let Santana bring Beth and Judy in to see her and I needed to throw up. I'm sure I look glorious. I'm sure I don't sound at all indignant whenever Finn brings me coffee.

"I brought you some more coffee."

"Thanks. I'm not having heart palpitations yet, so keep 'em coming." God, he looks so earnest. I sigh a little too loudly, even for my own taste. "I really mean it, Finn. Thank you." I swear I try to smile.

"Sure, Rach. No problem." He gives me that dopey little smile that I've always found so endearing. Roughly sixty hours ago, I was ready to marry that dopey smile. Everything's changed now; I can't stand to look at it another second.

I take my coffee and take a long gulp before setting it down. I begin to play with my ring, staring absently at it; wondering why it's even there. "Why are you even here, Finn?"

"Well, I kinda miss you. I mean, we haven't talked since... you know."

"Yeah. I know." I raise my head diminutively, just enough to see her battered face. I've been so captivated at how she's somehow managed to stay radiant covered in bruises, with little plastic veins sticking out of her body. "But I don't feel like talking now."

"You haven't felt like talking for-"

"For about two days, Finn. Two days that our friend has been in a coma. I don't feel like talking." I don't know if I've ever used this tone with him. I'm sure if I could bring myself to look into the face of the mistake I almost made, he'd look so confused. _I'm_ so confused.

"I didn't even know you guys were friends."

I whip around quickly at that. "Are you kidding me?" He just stares dumbly... maybe questioningly. "Quinn _is_ my friend. _Is_, Finn. I'm sorry that you've been paying so little attention to your _fiancé_ that you're unaware of the relationships that she's cultivated, but Quinn _is_ my friend." His eyes are wide now and his mouth is agape; like his jaw might have unhinged itself. I almost feel guilty. But the knot in my stomach has been here for two days. And the tears right behind my eyes have been threatening me just as long - maybe even longer, if I allow myself to admit it - and I just can't bring myself to care.

I turn back to Quinn; beautiful, broken Quinn. "Just go, please."

"Rach, I just-"

"I don't want you _here_, Finn." As I take Quinn's hand between both of my own, out of the corner of my eye I see him turn sharply and stomp down the hall. I hope he doesn't bother anybody.

* * *

People come to visit; I stand outside the door, staring through the window. They leave and I smile sadly at them as they exit before quickly reclaiming my chair. I tried to talk to her a few times, but everything that comes to mind begs a response. I can't vocalize things like, "There's always been this thing with you;" or "I'm so scared;" or "You can't leave me." Those kinds of things require conversation. Those kinds of ideas call for confabulation.

So I just breathe. I fool myself into thinking that I can still smell her, amidst the disinfectant and the utter _hospital_.

I hold her hand. Sometimes I play with my ring. Sometimes I'm afraid to let go of her.

I cry when I need to.

Finn doesn't come back.

My ring moves into my purse.

* * *

It's another four days before I feel her finger twitch against my palm. I jerk upright and squint my eyes at her hand, as if that would accomplish anything. I stare at the suspicious finger for whole seconds before it moves again. This time it's less of a twitch and more like she's attempting to caress the air. Which just happens to be the palm of my hand. "Quinn?" Her hand squeezes mine in response. "Quinn."

I'm absolutely breathless. I momentarily forget about the rest of the world; the fact that there are doctors that need to be notified, never mind her mother and daughter. I reach over and touch her pale cheek and she leans into me. I feel like my face might spilt in two from my smile, and warm tears trail their way down my cheeks. I reach my other hand over to smooth out the furrow in her brow.

"Quinn... sweetie." It slipped out, before I could even process any other word but her name. It fell from my lips so effortlessly. Did I ever call Finn sweetie? Before I can think about referring to my relationship with my fiancé in the past tense, there are nurses everywhere and a tall man in a white coat whom I vaguely recognize surrounding Quinn's bed, pushing me out of the way.

* * *

It was six more hours before I got to see Quinn again. From what I understand, she underwent numerous tests to determine her motor and verbal skills. Thankfully, she didn't have any damage to her brain. Her spine had been severely suppressed in the accident, but she still had some sensation in her legs. I learned all this from a watery smile that seemed to take up permanent residence on Judy Fabray's face. Little Beth is so sleepy with her head resting on her grandmother's shoulder. She looks so much like Quinn...

I only get to see her for about five minutes before she falls asleep again. She asks me how long I've been here. I sheepishly tell her the truth; that I've been here every single day, never more than two feet away from her. She gives me a dopey smile. Literally dopey in the way that she's on an incredible amount of morphine. I giggle and blush as she takes my hand.

"Your ring..."

I startle at that. Who notices a missing engagement ring just after they've woken up from a six-day coma? "Oh, um..."

"Has Finn been here?"

She's so astute. "He has been here, not in a while though." It comes out as a whisper, almost as if I'm embarrassed to admit it all.

"He's such a dick, you know? I mean, he can't even be here for you."

I giggle again. "I actually... asked him. To leave, I mean."

"Oh." She furrows those blonde brows, and looks away briefly. Her gorgeous eyes, lidded from weariness, dart across the room; searching, before snapping back up to mine. "Well, he's still a dick." She smiles cockily at me and I burst into laughter.

* * *

She goes home a week later in a wheelchair, with the assurance of it's temporary necessity. She makes tremendous strides in her physical therapy. After six weeks, she's using crutches. Another month and she's got this awesome, demure cane, which is soon unnecessary as well.

I begin sitting next to her in Glee. My praise for her courage and resilience is met with abashed humility. I giggle with her nearly constantly. I conviently ignore my need to be close to her; ignore the satisfaction of that need being met in a way that I'd never allowed myself to dream of.

I don't speak to Finn. At all. Until, one day, I do.

"Finn, we need to speak."

"Yeah, we do. You know, I can't believe the way you've been acting. You're being really selfish, Rachel. And I can't-"

"I am being selfish." Yeah, that shuts him up. He looks suspicious. He should be. "I haven't been selfish in a long time, Finn." His brow furrows, he looks like he might shit himself. "I've been so worried about you. I've been so concerned with _your_ happiness and _your_ needs; I've completely ignored my own."

He scoffs a little at that. "I mean, you think you miss it- I'm a dude, Rachel. I mean, for me, it's like constantly-"

"Finn. _Stop_. I'm not talking about what you think I'm talking about."

"Oh."

"Yes. I'm talking about not wanting to marry you." His eyes grow comically large. "I never wanted to marry you, Finn. I'm not in love with you, I don't know if I ever was."

He reaches for my hand and I jerk away. He stares at me imploringly, willing me to take it back, or start laughing at a funny joke I'm not telling. "Where is this coming from?"

"Me. I can't do this." He opens his mouth and some stupid, hopeful expression crosses his face. I quickly interrupt. "And I don't want to postpone, Finn. I just don't want to marry you. Ever." I stand up abruptly and leave the coffee shop. I can't even bring myself to feel guilty. And I valiantly ignore any reason why I might be driving to Quinn's.

* * *

"How do you feel?"

I exhale slowly and look straight into her glorious eyes. "Really good."

She gives me a small smile and tilts her head sympathetically. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"I guess I don't have a whole lot to say."

She gasps in mock surprise.

"Ha." We share a long, lingering gaze. "I'm just so scared of what almost happened to me, Quinn."

"What do you mean?"

"I _seriously _thought about going to California with him. Do you know how far away Los Angeles is from my dream?" She grasps my hand between both of mine. "_Three-thousand miles_. And I almost just went... just so he wouldn't be so sad. And through all of that, he never even gave me an orgasm, Quinn." I vaguely register that she has begun sputtering. "I mean, can you imagine? Giving yourself to someone who doesn't care the tiniest bit? It's so-" She gives me a sad smile. I feel like drowning. "Oh god, Quinn. I'm so sorry, I-I didn't mean-"

"Rachel," she shakes her head softly and squeezes my hand. "It's ok. And yes, I can imagine. It's not a great feeling." I hang my head and shake it from side to side. She keeps one hand over mine but moves the other under my chin, gently pulling my gaze to meet hers. "I always wondered." She grins prettily at the confused look on my face. "About... that. About whether or not you were... satisfied."

I pull my head from her palm abruptly, thinking she cannot be stating what my hormone-crazed mind has convinced me she has. "Wha- I-I-I-"

"I couldn't help myself." She raises her abandoned hand to my cheek and begins to run her thumb back and forth. "When you asked all of us girls about... that..." I feel my face flush under her touch and her gaze. But I don't dare move; I just let myself burn for her. "And I could tell, as _soon_ as I saw him at school after the weekend. He was so _arrogant_, as if he'd won something. But I just couldn't let it go. I kept thinking, 'Why would she do it? Did she even _feel anything_?'"

"I didn't." It's barely a whisper, but the way her other hand moves from mine to my thigh, just above my knee, somehow confirms that she's heard me.

"I wish you had." Her voice has taken on an impossibly low, sexy tone.

"Why?" It's a broken moan. I flush impossibly further.

"Because that's what you deserved; some dramatic sexual _awakening_." My eyes flutter shut. "And I just knew that he wouldn't give that to you. I knew that you needed more." My breathing has become ragged and I can feel her breath hitting my neck softly as the hand on my thigh moves upward. "And I couldn't help myself. From thinking about you. I've been dying to find all of the spots that make your body strain, that make you _sing_, Rachel. I wanna know what you'd look like as a trembling mess." A small moan escapes my lips and I find that oxygen is easier to retain if I don't close them again.

The hand on my cheek is sliding behind my head and entangling itself in my hair. The hand on my thigh is grasping my hip now, in the gentlest grip possible. Her skin is so fucking soft against mine; so different than I've ever let myself want.

"You know, I would get so frustrated; thinking about his giant hands all over you... and his sweating body heaving into you. It would make me sick." Her lips were grazing against the underside of my jaw now. And I could feel my pulse in my panties. "At night, I imagine how you might react to me, to my touch." She lets out the shortest laugh, really just expelling breath against my neck. It makes shiver. "I think I may have built myself up a little in my fantasies, Rachel. Because at the end of each one, just before I cum and I'm _finally_ able to sleep; you scream _my_ name." She ends her reverent recollection with a wet press of her lips on my jaw.

That's it. I exhale sharply and straddle her thighs. The hand in my hair tightens and pulls slightly and I moan deeply. I'm impatient now. I've been patient all my life... don't laugh. I've been commendably patient with Quinn, and now I'm done. I settle my hands on either of her breasts immediately and I take her gasp as my perfect opportunity to smash my lips against hers.

She lowers herself down to the bed and I follow easily; without thought, without fear. I just need to be here in this moment with her.

I feel her nipples poking rebelliously at my palms as I knead her breasts firmly. My reasoning and rational thought disappear and I disregard the fact that I have no actual idea of how to do this; of to how fulfill Quinn's desirous, sensuous prophecies. My tongue pushes through wet lips, not that there was much resistance, and she moans from the back her throat at the feel of our desperate muscles tangle together. It feels like sinking in the most real, beautiful way. It feels like I could fall, but the light grip she has on my hips keeps me grounded.

My lungs burn from the lack of oxygen. The inhalation of breath I need as I feel her abdomen tremble as I drag my fingernails across her toned skin provides me the perfect escape. I rest my forehead against hers, panting. She moves her hand back to my thighs and begins rubbing them up and down them, inching further underneath my skirt on each upstroke. She's breathing heavily as well, but she manages a husky, "Rachel..."

"I don't know if I should do this."

"Just be here with me. Right now. The rest will happen later. Just _let_ this happen."

I raise my head to look into her eyes, which have been clouded over with lust. For _me_. I nod almost imperceptibly, but Quinn catches it and dives back into my mouth as she finally slips her hand under my skirt and immediately settles one on my hip while the other cups me fully through my panties. I groan.

"_God_, Rae."

She's resting her head in the crook of my neck cutely before I take a handful of her hair and pull. I stare dead in her hazy eyes and tell her what may have always been the truth. "It's for you." Her breath catches, but she quickly recovers, pushing my panties to the side and slipping her fingers through wetness. "Oh... _god, Quinn_." I whimper almost pathetically.

My right hand has traveled underneath her shirt and is now pushing her bra up so that I can tweak her hard nipple, eliciting soft whimpers from her. She grabs my left wrist and brings it to the button of her jeans. "Touch me." We work together to get her button undone and her zipper down before I slide my hand into her panties, feeling just what I've done to her. It's so beautiful, having tangible evidence of the effect you have on such a stunning woman. It's like waking up.

We pull back just enough to look each other in the eye one last time. Our brains seem connected somehow. There are no words, just exploratory fingers rubbing soft circles. Just ragged breaths mingling in a way that makes me feel like those times I drank too much. Just dexterous digits making their way to tight openings. Just locked eyes and a synchronized thrust into each other.

We give each other mere seconds to adjust to our two-fingered intrusions before we lock lips and begin a steady pace, in and out; in and out. Our hips start moving to aid our thrusting hands. My wrist starts to ache in the most delicious way and I break our kiss to rest my head on her flexing shoulder. The inside of her feels just how the rest of her is: beautifully restricted and accommodating when softened. I can feel something building in my abdomen, pulsing in time with her rhythmic clamping around me. We're both so close. We're both so gone; hidden inside of each other. And then all I can hear are our moans, seemingly trying to drown the other's out. All I can feel is Quinn; she's fucking _everywhere_, and she fits _so well_.

I collapse on top of her, trying desperately to remember how to breathe. We rise and fall at a rapid pace together, and I slowly start to feel my lungs flood with oxygen again. And then it hits me. Quinn and I just... We... I just did something that I was nowhere _near _ready for. I _cannot _be in a relationship. Oh god, what does she want?

"Wow." It's a breathy chuckle against the shell of my ear.

"I need to go." I climb off of her and pat down my hair and skirt quickly before exiting her room and subsequently, her home.

* * *

I discarded my panties as soon as I slammed my bedroom door closed. They were ruined. I stripped wholly and looked into my full-length mirror, trying to wrap my head around what had just happened. It almost seems as if the whole afternoon was a dream. Do I have a fever? Did I hallucinate? No, that string of thought would only delay the guilt from settling into my stomach derisively.

I collapse onto my bed, naked, feeling entirely too exposed for someone so alone. I feel my phone vibrating and lean over to check the caller ID; it's Quinn. I just can't right now. It'd be too much. As I settle my phone back onto my nightstand my eyes become transfixed on my left ring and middle fingers. I bring them to my face; trying not to admit that I need to burn the feel of Quinn Fabray wrapped around me into my senses forever. I bring them slightly closer and inhale. God, what a mistake. It's in this moment that I realize I want so much more. I want to make Quinn cum again. And again. And again. God, I should have tasted her when I had the chance. What if she doesn't want me again? Would I want somebody that ran out on me after an orgasm? Shit.

My phone vibrates again, shorter this time; a text. It's from _her_. I hesitate to open it for whole minutes before reminding myself of the sordid details: my ring finger bore an empty promise from a sad boy mere months earlier, and it is now covered in Quinn that I couldn't bring myself to wipe off on the drive home. I open the text.

**From Quinn: I know you need time right now, take it. but we do need to talk. don't think too hard, Rae. **

She's such a sweetheart. Have I taken advantage? As I replay our afternoon in my mind I know the answer is no. I did not take advantage. Such an ugly way to see it. She wanted it. She wanted _me_. I bring those two fingers up to my face again and drag them along my jaw line. I then bring them across my collar bone and down through the valley of my breasts, pausing to harden my nipples with them. I drag them down my abdomen toward my center, which I've just realized is burning. It's like there's a weight around my wrist. Or perhaps a magnet whose opposite rests somewhere inside of me. As I trail my fingers through my folds, I can feel that I don't need any more foreplay. I need _this_. I need those two fingers that were buried inside of _Quinn_ and dragged her desire out of her, to be inside of _me _right now. This is what I need.

* * *

The weekend goes by quickly. I can't decide if that's a blessing or not. But as Glee ends after a full day of dodging Finn's hurt glances and avoiding Quinn, I realize that we _do_ need to talk. She's been respectful all weekend and all day today. She deserves this just as much as I do. So today. Now. I'm ready.

"Quinn?"

She spins around casually before cocking a blonde brow. "Yes?"

"Can we talk?"

There is a short pause where I might see something like surprise flash in her eyes. "Sure. Of course." She saunters over to the piano where I'm standing. We share an awkward smile and sit on the bench together. "How was _your_ weekend?" There's a hint of humor in her voice and it makes me giggle. She always makes me giggle.

I glance shyly at her before saying, "Um, it was… eventful."

"Glad to hear it." She smirks.

I try to fight off yet another giggle because we actually need to get somewhere here. "Quinn." Her features soften and I can tell I have her undivided attention. It stirs something inside of me. "I'm sorry that I ran away."

She immediately takes my hand and gives me a small, encouraging smile. "Why did you run away?" She asks softly.

"I was scared." She squeezes my hand in understanding. I suck in a breath and quickly say what's on my mind. "I'm still scared. It's just- I just got done being somebody's fiancé and I didn't think _that_ through _at all_. And I was so _not_ myself the entire time, Quinn, and I _can't _do that. I need to be on my own so I can figure things out. You know? I need to figure _myself_ out."

"I know." She smiles reassuringly.

Oh. "Oh."

I can tell she's suppressing her own giggle now. "Rachel, I'm not asking for anything. I _completely _understand. Ok?" She waits for me to nod, somewhat dazedly. "I don't want you to feel _any _pressure at _all_, and I honestly don't think I can handle anything _real_ right now, either. And-"

"But I had fun." Ok, apparently my mouth has made up it's mind about what I want without informing the rest of me. She cocks that brow again, questioningly. "I mean, I-I really enjoyed our Friday afternoon, Quinn. I wouldn't be opposed to spending time together in that way… with you… again." I finish lamely, so unsure of what I'm doing. Or even what exactly I'm asking.

"So what? Like friends with benefits?"

"I was thinking more like fuck buddies."

She does laugh at that and I blush hotly. "Rachel Berry, I don't believe I've ever heard you swear before."

"Well, I usually find those kinds of words completely unnecessary to any argument I'm making. But in this case, I feel that _that_ would be the most accurate term for what it is that I'm asking for." I rush it out, trying to get my hand out of her grasp. But she won't let me go.

"Calm down. It was kinda hot." I blush again. "Please, don't be embarrassed with me." I look up into those golden-hazel eyes. "I'm in." I perk my head up at that, intrigue and surprise no doubt coloring my features. She looks around the empty room a moment before settling her grinning gaze back on me. "In fact, I want _in_. Right now."

I whimper pathetically. Is this really happening? Rachel Barbra Berry entering a no strings attached _anything_? As Quinn lets go of my hand and shoves her hand up my dress I decide that yes. Rachel Barbra Berry is going to be sexually satisfied. Quite often.

* * *

**AN2: Thanks so much for reading. I know that some of this chapter seems almost a little fluffy, maybe. But I will go into how they became detached from anything other than sex. Reviews are lovely and encourage and inspire me. Just saying.**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Wow, you guys are so awesome. I can't thank you enough!**

* * *

**Chapter Three: I Never Said I Was Brave**

_New York - Present Day_

"I don't want to go out tonight."

"Rachel, its Thursday night!"

I have no idea why that would be a selling point. At all. "I'm tired, Jesse." I'm whining, and he's mocking me.

It's like Jesse has some kind of sixth sense. Like a real one; not like the one I claimed to have. He called as soon as Quinn came, it seemed like. We were both still treacherously caught in that moment; her wide eyes locked on my own from above and both of us panting, my arms still outstretched and tied. We should have recovered by then, but there is never a plea. For what, it's baffling me. But my phone started singing "Do Ya Think I'm Sexy" (Jesse's own doing) and we each held our breath before Quinn jumped off of me to untie me and toss me my phone.

Now Jesse's begging me to go out to some gay club. It's nine o'clock and Quinn's staring at me, still naked.

"Oh, have you been fucking Quinn?"

I glance at her embarrassed, as if she can hear the crude question. "Just... not tonight."

"Oh my god. You were! Jesus, Rach. Twice in one day?"

"Just stop, ok?"

"What did you la-"

"Goodbye, Jesse!" I hang up with an exasperated sigh.

"What did he want?" Quinn asks after a moment.

"Just to see if I wanted to go out. He wants to go to some gay club." I wave a dismissive hand.

"You should go." Her tone is low and dangerous. I raise my brows questioningly. "You might meet someone." She shrugs and looks away, searching for her clothes.

My brows furrow as I watch her slip her panties back on and try to remember that I felt I needed to respond before she bent over. "I don't want to meet someone." She doesn't even look up at me, eyebrows shooting up at discovering her bra. "What do you mean?"

"I just mean that you might meet somebody that you actually like." Her voice is icy and indifferent. "You know, instead of fucking around with me."

"Quinn..."

She stops her frantic searching and cocks one hand on her hip and pinches the bridge of her nose with the other. "Look, I don't care what you do, I guess. I don't know why I said anything." She spots her slacks and grabs them.

This is the part where a million questions flood my brain and I never ask a single one of them; afraid of the answer. My voice is timid when I do ask, "You guess?"

She looks at me with furrowed brows. "What?"

"You said you don't care what I do, you _guess_..."

I see her eyes gloss over in realization. This whole night is becoming something we never intended it to be; it's becoming... _fragile_. Very quickly. But I just can't help myself this time. I'll explore it later. "Do you care?" Nothing. "Quinn?"

"I thought we weren't supposed to talk about this shit." She reaches for her blouse and starts putting her arms through it.

"So you do care..."

"Rachel..." She's getting frustrated. And the way she's just standing there in her business slacks with her blouse unbuttoned, and that fire in her hazel eyes; she's so fucking sexy. Always. I snap my attention back at the sound of her voice. "We can't talk about this if you're going to regret it tomorrow."

There it is. Now I understand what her plea was for. Her tone is much firmer and more present now, but she's asking me for this. "What if I won't?"

She cocks a brow at me and pauses a moment. "Then we can have coffee." I shift uncomfortably. "Or you can make coffee here and we'll both drink it." She says exasperatedly. "But right now, I have to go home."

"It's still fairly early, Quinn-"

"I have things." She states with finality.

"This is a thing, too."

"I have Beth." She looks at me pointedly as she buttons the last button.

That's rule number one. We don't talk about Beth, but she always comes first. I have no argument. "Right. I'm sorry."

I hear her sigh. I feel out of place in my own home. I can't bring myself to look at her, but I feel her presence right in front of where I'm sitting on my bed. She loops one of her fingers in a loose tendril of my hair and I finally look up at her. Her face is so perfect in its conflict. "It's ok." Her eyes are darting back and forth between mine, and I just don't want to lose this. I never do. "I'll call you tomorrow?" She smiles softly at me and cups my cheek with her hand. I nod solemnly and lean into her without thinking. All I can do is feel right now. "I'll talk to you."

I can't lift my head up to watch her leave this time. There's something inherently different about tonight. We started out as usual, but then she became possessive. And I liked it. I liked her reminding me that no one else gets me like she does. I feel a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips. My cheek fits in her palm _so well_. I lie back on my bed and stare absently up at the ceiling. I can feel her wetness drying on my face, but I can't move. I still feel immersed in her. It's deliciously tortuous.

* * *

I woke up a mess of nerves this morning. I showered, got ready, applied and reapplied make-up, all with slightly shaking limbs.

I somehow made it to school in my completely frazzled state. Jesse looks hungover. "There she is. May I just say that you look _severely _less satisfied than I feel right now?"

I raise my eyebrows haughtily, trying to mask my nerves. "Looks can be deceiving, my darling."

He smirks at me from his little theatre seat. "That's my girl." I roll my eyes, taking my seat beside him. "Anyway, ask me how my night was?"

"Hey, Jesse, how was your night?"

"Ah, ha." He mocks my obnoxiousness. "I met the hottest guy. Rachel, he's _gorgeous_. And we danced all night, and then we made out a little. But he was _such _a gentleman." He sighs dreamily.

I giggle shortly at his reverence of a relationship that's lasted one night. I stop at his glare, though. "That's great, J."

"Whatever." I roll my eyes again. "You should have come."

"I was with Quinn."

"I know. But it was so much fun." He's such a child sometimes, whining at me like that.

"Maybe next time?"

"Ok." And just like that, just like a child, he's content. "So what're your plans today?"

"I have tentative plans with Quinn later on." I start rummaging through my notes, distracting myself from where this conversation might lead.

"Plans... A call and a fuck you get nearly every day is not a _plan_, Rach. It's just your life."

Something roils in my stomach at that. I can't place what it is, exactly, that's bothered me. "Well, one might qualify today's possibilities as a _plan_." My tone is becoming slightly defensive.

"Would one? Would one care to share?" He asks, nudging my shoulder.

"We might have coffee later on." His eyes get very big at that and I sigh. He's more of a drama queen then I am sometimes. "Just to... work some things out."

"What things?" He asks, interest obviously piqued.

Right at that moment, our teacher walks in and I am given temporary reprieve.

* * *

I managed to dodge Jesse's inquisition by promising to go back to the club with him tonight, and I'm walking to my car when I feel a buzz in my pocket. A call from Quinn. I smile involuntarily before answering. "Hello."

"Rachel. Where are you right now?" She sounds frantic.

"I'm just to leave school."

"Beth got hurt at school, and it's gonna take at least forty minutes to get to the hospital and Santana's in class across town. I just, I don't know-" I can tell she's choking on some tears.

"Where is she?"

"Lenox Hill." Her voice quavers a bit, and I can hear cars flying by in the background. "Rachel… She's all alone."

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Don't worry, ok? I'll be there."

She sucks in a long breath before clearing her throat; albeit, futilely. "Thank you."

"Of course." There's a short pause where I contemplate the situation; how much intimacy can I get away with right now? I settle for, "It's gonna be ok, Quinn."

"Ok."

And then I hang up and throw my car into gear. I'm gonna have to break a few traffic laws to actually get to Lenox Hill in fifteen minutes at this time of day. But I promised Quinn.

I don't know what's happened to Beth. I haven't even seen her in two years. I used to see her all the time. I'd go over to Quinn's and Beth would snuggle up between us while we watched some cartoon. It always felt so nice, knowing I was _present_ in such a young life. And Quinn made me feel so important when I was with them. I loved Beth back then. How could I not? And Beth loved me, too. And Quinn had told me more than once that she loved that.

But then we started this _thing_, and I decided that having a relationship with Beth would just dirty up the lines that I'd drawn between us. I can't imagine doing the things I do with Quinn, and then having to look Beth in her innocent fairy eyes. Eyes that looked so much like the eyes I refused to look into for too long, for fear of being lost forever. Don't get me wrong, I know that I'm lost now. But I'm lost by myself. I was lost with Finn for so long, and I don't want to be lost _with_ anyone ever again. Hell, sometimes… _I _don't even know who I think I'm kidding.

* * *

"What's you relationship to the patient?"

"Um…" I honestly haven't thought about this. What do I say now? I know they can't give information to anyone other than family. Shit. This nurse looks so expectant. I've paused so long now, I don't know that she'll believe any lie I come up with. All the ones racing through my brain are so obvious; sister, guardian, mother… Ok. I can do this. "Um, I'm her mother's partner." Oh my god, I'm getting heart palpitations. Oh my god, the nurse looks so skeptical. How dare she question me? My "daughter" is in the hospital! "Excuse me, will you please tell me what's going on with my daughter?" My hearts planning an escape, I just know it.

After another short moment that this nurse uses to mentally size me up, she says, "Of course, Miss Fabray." Oh god, this is unreal. "Beth's teacher told the paramedics that the girl was playing on the monkey bars when she fell a good ten feet into the tanbark. With the way she landed she managed to knock the wind out of herself, break her arm and cut her lip open." She says all this like she's reading nutrition facts off of a label, while I'm standing here trying not to cry. That girl is so small. She's so small and perfect. "She's having her arm looked at right now. You'll be able to see her in about an hour, so-"

"You're horrible at your job." I interrupt her, and she immediately glances up from her computer screen. "You've become unforgivably desensitized and I can't imagine getting news any worse than this from the likes of you."

"Miss-"

I raise my hand up and she quiets. "I know I'm being somewhat dramatic, ok?" Her brows shoot up as she stares inquisitively at me, no doubt anticipating another round of insults. I simply huff, smoothing down my skirt and add, "I'm kind of known for it." With that, I turn to take a seat in the waiting room.

This whole thing feels too familiar. I cannot be any more grateful that Beth doesn't have more serious injuries. But it all reminds me of living in a hospital for a week until Quinn woke up after her accident. She looked so small, lying in that hospital bed. I wring my hands together nervously until I feel a buzz in my pocket. I quickly whip it out and read,

**From Quinn: where are you?**

I reply immediately. **To Quinn: the waiting room by nurse station 3.**

Not two minutes later Quinn rushes into the area, searching frantically. I go to her as quickly as I can and she basically falls into me. She's trying to hide her sobs; I can feel her warm tears on the skin covering my shoulder and neck. I rub my hand up and down her back in an attempt to be soothing. "She's ok, Quinn. She's all right."

She raises her head to look into my eyes and sniffles a bit. "She is?" I nod and give her a small smile. They must not have told her anything over the phone. She starts looking toward the nurse's station before walking over. "Where is she?"

"She's just-"

But she wants to speak with _the_ nurse. Uh oh. "Where is my daughter?"

The nurse looks at Quinn and then passed her, to me. Her eyes widen slightly and I smirk. "Miss, I've told your wife all of the pertinent information."

Quinn whips around at that. _Uh oh_. She marches over to me before taking my elbow and dragging me over to secluded little corner, a fair distance away from the nurse. "My _wife_?"

"Uh…" Oh, not again. I've never stuttered so much before in my life. She cocks that blonde brow at me. It's really not fair of her to do that, especially so often. It's very… _affronting_. "Well, I needed her to tell me what was going on and I needed to be legal family to do that, Quinn. I couldn't very well be Beth's sister." Now I'm rambling. "Especially now that they've seen her mother. There's no way you could have given birth to me."

"Ok, Rachel." She shakes her head, probably trying to forget that anybody ever presented the hypothetical that she gave birth to the woman she fucks. Yeah, that does sound bad. She opens her eyes again, and they're still glossy but look more determined now. "What's going on?"

"Beth fell off the monkey bars. She cut her lip open and broke her arm." She looks like she might cry again, so I hesitantly take her in my arms again. "She's gonna be fine, Quinn. The recovery period will probably be about six weeks, and all the kids at school will think she's God with that cast." I feel her giggle against my neck. And it feels good. I pull her away from my body to look her in the eyes. She's smiling a smile at me that holds something akin to appreciation, maybe. "She's fine. Ok?"

She nods. "Ok." She wipes the tears from underneath her eyes and sniffles before gesturing over to a group of chairs. I follow her obediently. "When can we see her?" She asks after we sit.

_We_? Something flutters in my stomach and my lips part in surprise. I wonder momentarily if she'll catch her slip up; or if she's even slipped up. She focuses her weary gaze on me expectantly and I'm quick to close my mouth. "Um, the nurse said about an hour." She sighs as she sinks into her chair and rests her temple on her raised fist. "I could stay, you know." She simply turns her head the slightest bit so she can look at me. "I mean, I have a car. And we're all probably going to be hungry by the time we leave, so we can pick something up on the way back to yours." I have no idea where my bravery is coming from. I just hope, for both our sakes, that I don't retract it later.

"You don't have to do that, Rachel." She smiles sadly at me.

"I know." It's a simple statement that doesn't even begin to appropriately fit our situation. But simple is what everyone needs right now. Her kid's in the hospital, for Christ's sake.

She just smiles at me, more genuinely this time, and leans her head on my shoulder. "Thank you." It's a whisper against the shell of my ear and I feel it all again. The tightness in my chest, the fluttering in my stomach and that importance. It feels so good. It feels like I can't think about anything outside of this warm moment, especially not the way I'll freak out about this later. Lately, Quinn just makes me feel so strong.

* * *

It's been forty minutes since Quinn arrived. She hasn't lifted her head from my shoulder; just resting her eyes, I presume. I've been reading ridiculous gossip about starlets and the bastards that they're dating. She suddenly huffs a small laugh. "That was almost you and Finn." She states with humor laced in her voice as she nods toward the magazine I'm holding.

I feel a small smile tug at my lips at her observation. "He wasn't _that_ bad."

"Oh, _please_. He almost dragged you to California, Rachel. I know you've forgiven him, but that doesn't make him any less of a douche."

I can feel her jaw moving against my upper arm and I let my smile take over my face. "He was just a boy, Quinn."

She lifts her head to rest in on her raised hand opposite me, and stares inquisitively at me; eyes narrowed, plump, pink lips pursed. I glance down at them before returning her gaze. "He _was _just a boy." She allows a small smile to take hold of her, so I do as well. "But you always deserved more than that."

This isn't meant to be a _conversation_, I don't think. So I respond in a way that could be conceived as playing along with her. "And what _did_ I deserve?"

She breaks our gaze and sits upright, looking at her pumps. "Just… more." She fickles with the buttons on her jacket that she discarded a while ago and lets out a nervous laugh before raising her head to look straight ahead. "I always thought I knew what you deserved." She widens her eyes, still with that smile, and shakes her head slowly. "I was just guessing like he was." She turns her gaze back to me and tilts her head slightly, seemingly studying my face. She then raises her brow cockily and settles back into her seat before adding, "I do have to say, though. I've always been a little better at guessing," before picking up her phone at its incessant buzz, from where it's been resting on her thigh. "Hey, S." She says into the receiver.

It's Santana. I can hear the ferocity in her tone through the phone, but I can't quite make out what she's saying. All I can pick out is, "What the fuck? … She's ok, though… Jesus, Quinn… Rachel?" Ok. I stand up at hearing my name and gesture discreetly that I need to use the restroom.

* * *

I just wash my hands before I stare at my strangely content face in the mirror. This afternoon has been surreal. I was just supposed to have coffee with Quinn. We were going to talk about "meeting someone." Well, I was going to talk about how I don't want to meet someone. And then, if I happened to stumble upon some courage on the busy sidewalks, I was going to inquire as to whether Quinn would like meet someone. Last night, as I was falling asleep to possibilities set to a love sick soundtrack, I allowed myself to hope that she would say no. That she _doesn't_ want to meet someone new. Which now I realize is completely selfish. I've expected so much from her with absolutely no give on my part. I'm sure there's only so many times I can justify my behavior by telling myself that I'm scared. And based on Quinn's recent reactive spirit (not counting today, of course), I'm edging on _too much_. I have to figure out what Quinn gets out of this, and then I have to find the bravery that I lost Sophomore year of high school.

* * *

When I return to the waiting area, Quinn is speaking to a brunette woman in a white coat. Quinn is nodding every few seconds, wringing her hands together. She turns to me at the feel of my gaze and motions for me to come over to them. I arrive just in time to hear the doctor say, "I can take you to see her now." Quinn exhales in relief and I smile triumphantly; like some damned hero. "I'll just be signing Beth's discharge papers and you should be on your way home well within the hour."

"Thank you so much, Dr. Brandt."

"Of course." At that, she spins around and begins leading us to Beth's room in the pediatric ward.

As soon as we enter the room, there are two excited squeals and then Dr. Brandt turns to leave with a smile on her face. Quinn dives down onto her knees and scoops her mini-me into her arms, being careful of her cast. "Mommy! Did you see it? Did you see my cast?"

Quinn pulls back and inspects her daughter's broken, hot pink encased arm. "It's so cool, baby." She states with a giggle and I look on adoringly.

"Dr. B said the other kids get to write on it!"

"That's great." Quinn runs her finger over Beth's busted bottom lip reverently before pulling the girl back into her arms. "Come here, baby."

I manage to make out an "Are you ok, Mommy?" muffled against Quinn's chest. The taller blonde pulls back and combs her fingers through her daughter's dirty blonde hair carefully. "Yeah, baby, I'm ok. I was just scared for a little while."

"I'm ok, Mom. See?" Beth proceeds to showcase her genuine "ok"-ness by balancing on one foot for about five seconds when she spots me. Her eyes grow guarded, just the same way that Quinn's do. It's impeccable.

Quinn catches her daughter's expression and turns to me, standing up and taking Beth's hand. "Oh, baby, this is Rachel. This is Mommy's friend." She only chokes slightly on the last word, which I admire. "Can you say 'hi,' Beth?"

"Hi." It's an exhalation of breath, really. "I remember you from Lima."

I smile down at her before squatting (a quite ladylike squat, might I add) down to her eye level. She's clutching her mother's slack's with her previously free hand, and I've never felt such an overwhelming need to impress anyone than I do now, with this four year old. And I'm Rachel Berry. "I remember you, too." She smiles a little then. "Your cast is really cool. Pink's my favorite color."

Her whole face lights up. "Me too!" I don't even try to hide the widest smile I've ever smiled. I glance up at Quinn and she looks tentative, but is smiling as well. "But it doesn't make me a girly girl."

"Of course not, baby." Quinn says from above us with a smirk on her face and I stand up again.

"I personally believe that pink is a very strong color." I say faux-haughtily, hands on my hips. And Beth _giggles_. It's the best sound. It sounds just like when I used to make Quinn giggle.

The doctor reemerges at this point to happily inform us that we can go home. I mean, we can leave. Because we have separate homes. _Shit_.

After Dr. Brandt leaves, Quinn picks Beth up and I have to say… There's something so intimate about seeing Quinn with her kid on her hip. It's kind of sexy. It's completely endearing in an entirely unexpected way. I feel my heart stutter at the sight. _Shit, shit_. "All right, baby. Rachel wants to get some dinner with us tonight. You hungry?" Beth nods her head furiously and rubs her belly. Quinn and I stifle a laugh at the girl before making our way out of the hospital room.

* * *

Neither of us thought about a car seat for Beth, so I put her in the middle back seat and buckled all of the belts around and across her small body. Quinn insisted I was being ridiculous, but the feeling of responsibility I get with the little girl came back the moment Quinn asked me to be at the hospital. I can't help it.

We've rolled through a fast food place because, "the girl with the broken arm gets to pick dinner." Of course, I hadn't thought of how a four year old's taste might conflict with a vegan, like me. I end up with a salad… without the cheese and bacon, which Quinn scoffs at and I glare playfully back at her until she starts laughing. I honestly don't know what kind of mood I'm in right now. I haven't felt this content since Glee club won sectionals that first year. But this isn't Glee club; it's Quinn. And her _daughter_.

As we walk through the front door of Quinn's large apartment, I feel my nerves getting worked up. I sit at the table as casually as I can while Quinn starts unloading our meal from the to-go bags. When she passes me my salad she smiles at me reassuringly. "All right. Beth, honey? Go wash your hands for dinner."

Beth looks downright petulant at that. "What about my cast, Mommy?" She stomps her little foot on the floor.

Quinn takes a moment to figure out how, indeed, Beth will wash her hands with the cast reaching up around her fingers. "Use the washcloth, sweetie." Beth's scowl is gone and she skips away from the table. "Thanks for this, Rachel. I really wish you'd let me pay for our dinner."

"Nonsense." I wave my hand dismissively. "You've had a long day, Quinn. It was the least I could do."

She huffs a laugh as she takes her seat across from me. "Actually, the least you could have done was go to the hospital; or stay with me there; or drive us home." She pauses after she grabs a napkin and sets it next to her drink to look me in the eyes. "Yesterday, you didn't even _want _to have dinner with me." She cocks her brow. Again.

"That wasn't the case."

"Oh? Then what was it?"

"I'm just a bit unsure of where you think we stand?" I don't know if that was the right way to say it. But it's exactly what I've been wondering for the past month or so.

"I'm unsure of that, too, lately." My brows furrow and I stare at her intently. "I'm at a place where… this - dinner… and Beth - it feels good to me. But I know that no matter how well I read you, Rachel, this could be gone tomorrow. You might totally back track and chalk tonight up to some… feeling of _obligation _that'll make me sick as soon as I see it all over your face."

I lower my head shamefully. I know she's right. It's happened. I once reached for her hand when we were fucking and I refused her kisses for a week afterward. All of the sudden, guilt rises in my throat. This whole night is just the thing I've been trying so hard to avoid; this glimpse into Quinn's real life. _Quinn_ - a fantastic, hard-working mother who manages to draw me impossibly closer to her every time I see her. And I'm _scared_. But something _has _to change. And all I know right now, right in this moment - sitting at Quinn Fabray's table waiting for her daughter to come to dinner - I'm not ready to say goodbye. I look up into her sad gaze and return my own, filled with a determination that I haven't felt since I auditioned for NYADA. "That won't happen."

She just smiles at me before lowering her head to play with her napkin, in a move that she must think hides her blush and the way her smile is taking over her face in the most beautiful way I've ever seen.

* * *

While I clean up what little there is to actually clean, Quinn helps Beth in the bath. I smile at the sounds of giggling and splashing that I can hear from down the hall. Beth and I got along quite swimmingly over dinner, if I do say so myself. I can't help the swelling of reverent pride in my chest. It's not like I've been here for the last two years, no. But it's like there might be a place for me in the little girl's life again, if I'd only fill it.

When they're done in the bath, Beth begs me to stay for ice cream and a cartoon before bed time. She does this thing where she clasps her hand together like she's praying or something, and her eyes get really big and her lower lip juts out and trembles a bit.

"God, Beth." Quinn scoffs at her daughter. "Desperation isn't a good look on you, baby." She says warmly while shooting me an apologetic look. I shake my head at it.

Beth just scrunches up her face and looks up at her mom, who has the most amused expression coloring her features. "I don't even know what that word means."

I bend down to her level again and take her little hand in mine. I hear Quinn's breath catch at the action, and I know I officially have something to prove now. It's intimidating. I keep the uneasy edge out of my voice for the little girl's benefit, though. "You know, I think your mom's wrong about that look." She smiles brightly and Quinn shakes her head, stifling a laugh. "And I would love to watch a cartoon with you."

"And ice cream?" She looks at me expectantly.

"How about you and your mom have some ice cream and I'll have some fruit."

Beth looks suspicious at the idea of fruit over ice cream for a moment, but then she beams brightly up at me and says "Ok!" before hugging me quickly and running off to the couch.

Quinn and I exchange a short, tentative smile before heading over to the living area.

* * *

After Quinn has successfully put Beth to bed she comes back out and sees me standing near the front door. "Do you want a glass of wine?"

"I can't, actually." I smile absently before seeing the questioning look on her face. Right. At the end of _this _night, I need to provide an explanation. "I promised to go out with Jesse and Kurt tonight."

"To that gay club?" She smiles, but her tone is short.

"Yes." Oh… OH! "Jesse met a guy there last night and he's convinced he'll see him again."

"You don't have to explain, Rachel. It's-"

"No, I want to." She looks at me imploringly. "I mean, we didn't get to have coffee today to talk… about _things_. But I do want to explain that I'm going for Jesse. And Kurt's gonna be there for my entertainment, because I honestly doubt that anything there will hold my attention."

She laughs a little and it makes me smile, just like always. She walks over to open the door for me. "All right. That's… actually good to know." She says shyly.

I gently take her hand and it seems like a fire spreads directly from the connection. "Goodnight, Quinn."

"Goodnight, Rachel."

* * *

**AN2: Thanks again for reading. I really, really do appreciate it ****so**** much. Also, the title of the fic and all of it's chapters will be titles of songs that I was listening to when I wrote each chapter. So if anybody's interested at all, let me know and I'll definitely tell you exactly what they all are. (:**

**I'm already started on the next chapter, so hopefully it'll be up soon! Until then…**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Thank you, thank you, thank you. I wish I could send you all chocolates and roses. **

**This chapter was partially inspired by Lea Michele's and Naya Rivera's performance of "So Emotional" in the Whitney Houston tribute episode. So. Fucking. Good. It already has about twenty plays in my iTunes. Oh, and p.s. I totally woosted an idea from Peter Pan in this chapter, which I don't own. If you spot it, I'll give you a hug. I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Four: So Emotional**

Last night's lack of alcohol was supposed to prepare me for this. In actuality, if I had gotten a good buzz, I wouldn't have felt so disarmingly present after the hardest night of my life and it might have served to lull me into a deep, drunken sleep. Instead I lay awake in my bed all night, combing over every detail of the day I spent with the Fabrays. I tried to figure out how I feel about it all, but the sheer high I got off of Quinn kept a silly smile plastered on my face (that evoked more than a few inquiries) and managed to convince my brain that the only way I felt was happy. Of course, the reasoning behind my sober night out has come to fruition. It's ten in the morning and I don't have a hangover to nurse while I try to convince Quinn to have lunch with me. Lunch is safe, right?

After three rings, "Hello?" I'm sure she doesn't expect me to call so soon after last night. I feel a little proud that I'm still a bit unexpected.

"Hey, Quinn."

"Hey, Rae."

There's a long pause. I can almost see her arched brow through the phone. "Um, I didn't wake you, did I?"

"I have a four year old living with me." She says through a laugh.

"Right." I giggle back. "So do you and the four year old have any plans today?"

"Uh… Beth's going to the zoo with Aunty Tana."

"Wow. That sounds… hilarious, honestly."

"I know, right? She's really stepped up with Beth. I think she loves her, but she won't say." I can hear the smile in her voice.

"Sounds about right." We share a reverent silence. "So would that leave you free for lunch?"

"Um. Yes. I suppose it would." She sounds taken aback.

"Well, I was thinking we could meet at Zoccoli's?" All I can hear is her breath. "Just to talk?"

"Is this like a date?" I honestly don't know how to respond. I haven't been on a date in two years. "Because, I'll be honest Rachel, that might be a little too much for us right now."

There is a light sinking feeling in my chest, but I can't quite identify it. I mean, it feels a little like when she used to insult me; that unrequited approval. But I know she's right. So I swallow around the lump in my throat. "Of course!" I say it a bit too loud to be in genuine agreement and I cringe. "I just thought, you know, we were going to talk yesterday, but that plan was derailed. Not that it wasn't worth it, that's not what I mean at all. Beth always comes first, I-"

"Rachel, it's ok. I know what you meant."

"Oh." I am positively embarrassed at my rambling.

"What time do you wanna meet?"

Oh. Yay. Ok, now if I can just _not_ stutter. "Um…" Oops. "Around one? Is that ok?"

"Yeah, that sounds good." Her tone is pleasant enough and I think I may have gotten away with this. She clears her throat. Oh god, I've been silent. I haven't responded at all. She beats me to it. "So… I'll see you at one then."

"Yeah. All right." Another pause plays with my nerves. "Ok, I'll let you go now."

"Ok. Bye Rae."

"Bye." So I got through it. But just _barely_.

I don't even know what I'm expecting from this not date. I mean, I keep saying that we were going to have coffee to talk, but hell if I know what we were going to talk about. I know that there are things that need to be said, especially after last night. I spent the evening with her daughter, whom I had previously ban myself from having a relationship with. I initiated physical contact that I knew wouldn't lead to sex. I kinda rule, right? Ok, so I'm getting ahead of myself. But I can't help it, I'm so excited. Ok, I only have two and a half hours to get ready.

* * *

I arrived thirteen minutes early because I needed somewhere to go. I had been pacing my apartment for half an hour when I got Quinn's text. **From Quinn: I'll be there in fifteen**. So I left immediately, of course. What else was I supposed to do? So I live two blocks away from Zoccoli's. Add in the nervous way I was speed walking; I got a table promptly two minutes after I got the text. And now I'm _promptly_ regretting it. What do I do for ten minutes? I've wrung my hands nervously. I've gone to the restroom for last second make-up checks. And now I'm ordering two waters… because I'm a saint. Obviously.

All of the sudden toned, fair legs round the corner and my eyes take her in. God, the three-tone purple pumps and the white bohemian skirt that flows around her and just above the knee; the pale lavender tank she's wearing hugs the curves of her waist and breasts and I'm fairly certain that I'm salivating now. She's wearing barely any make-up and her flaxen hair falls just above her shoulders, just the same way it has since Senior year. I finally trace over the sweet smile on her lips and catch her golden gaze. I'm breathless. I swear, as she saunters over to me in that completely unintentionally sexy way that she does, "So Emotional" pops into my head and I flush deeply.

She takes her seat across from me. I momentarily wonder if I should have stood up and/or pulled out her chair. Then I remember that a date "might be a little too much for us right now." And though I was irrationally hurt by the implication earlier, now that we're here, and she looks like that; I'm just glad that I can form words at all.

"Hey, Rae."

Her smile is brilliant. "Hey." She blushes prettily. "It's nice out today." Really, Rachel? Loser.

She just kind of expels a breath that turns into a short laugh. "It is." She cocks that fucking brow with this smirk on her face, and I suddenly can't fathom how I've lasted two years. "So… Should we just jump right in? I mean, small talk's never been our forte, Rae." She smiles reassuringly at me.

I suck in a deep breath and nod my head slowly. "Sure. That's probably best."

Our waiter approaches and eyes Quinn immediately. "May I take your orders, ladies?" He's staring at her the whole time; I'm surprised it registered to make that plural. And his tone is airy, as I'm sure the rest of him is.

Quinn just smiles politely at him before turning to look at me. "I'm ready. Are you?"

"Yup." I answer shortly. She lowers her head to hide her restrained laugh. I look up at the guy who's still staring at Quinn. I clear my throat and she brings her hand up to cover her mouth. "I'll have the roasted tempeh reuben sandwich." My tone is much too serious to be ordering a sandwich. I know I sound ridiculous, but I've never been out with Quinn before. And I've never had to deal with the constant attention I'm sure she receives. Suddenly, I feel like _one of many_.

He finishes writing my order before turning back to Quinn with some stupid grin on his face. "I'll have the Italian... with extra bacon." Gross. Anyway, this fucker actually wiggles his brows at her, like he's in some porno.

"I'll be out soon with your orders." And then he walks away in a way I'm sure he thinks is alluring. He looks like a dinosaur.

"Ok, so that's probably a good place to start." I snap my attention back to Quinn and try to turn my frown into some kind of pleasantly confused expression. She just smirks at me. "Do you think it's appropriate to get jealous over our waiter?"

I go to set out my silverware that I won't be using because I can't look at her with this furious blush coloring my face. "I don't know what you mean."

"Rachel..." I smooth out my napkin until she covers one of my hands with hers. "We're here to talk." I relax slightly. "We've never been out before... anywhere. So this has never happened." She's prompting me for something, I just know it. "How do you feel?"

I suck in a long breath and take a glance at her hand covering mine. It looks good. It feels good. I exhale slowly, buying myself time. But eventually, I have to spit it out. "Jealous." I say it so quietly that she has to lean in to hear it. But I know she does by the light blush and sweet smile on her beautiful face.

"Why?"

I sigh, already exasperated at this conversation. But this is what I want with Quinn. "This is gonna be really hard, isn't it?" She nods. There is a pause where I'm trying to figure out what to say next; how much to give away. "I don't think I like seeing you with other people." I spit out hastily.

She cocks a brow at me, and I hate (love) it. "That isn't our agreement."

"I know." I feel deflated. "So do you, then? See other people?"

"Do you?"

The shake of my head is almost non-existent. Now that Quinn has pointed out that that wasn't our agreement, I feel almost embarrassed. "I've been on a few dates, but not in a while."

I see her form tense at that and the tendons in her jaw flex. But she keeps that sweet smile in place. "You have?" It sounds more like a statement.

"Haven't you?"

She takes her hand back. "No, Rachel. I haven't." She lets out a bitter laugh. "Though I have no idea why not. _You're _clearly not interested."

I furrow my brow. That is so the opposite of true, I don't even know where to begin. "Quinn, that's not why I went on dates."

"Really? Isn't that kind of standard?"

"I was looking for someone that didn't make me feel so much." I blurt out. There is a moment when we both hold our breath and refuse to look at each other. I have no idea how fast this is supposed to go, but I'm absolutely sure I just broke the speed limit.

She breaks the silence with a heavy sigh as she runs a hand through her hair before crossing her arms over chest. When her voice finally comes out, it's small but strong. "I'm not Finn." I feel tears prick at the corners of my eyes. How is it that she's always know? Yesterday she said she had always just been guessing, but she gets me in a way that makes me want to fold in on myself and it always has. "I know you, Rachel. You've tried_ so hard_ to make sure that I don't, but I do. And I would _never _give this much of myself to anyone else." There's a lump in my throat now. "I couldn't. But you _have_ to figure out whether or not I'm worth it, because I've been waiting a long time for that. It's _my _turn to be selfish."

The pang of familiarity hurts. Have I been doing to Quinn what Finn was doing to me? I've had an inkling about the way she feels, but I've strung her along to fit _my_ needs and fears. The only thing that keeps me from falling to my knees to beg for her forgiveness is that our fucking waiter comes back with our food.

"Hello, ladies. I have a roasted tempeh reuben sandwich and an... Italian with extra bacon." He fucking _winks_ at Quinn. It makes me sick. "Enjoy your meal." He reminds me of Noah. Ew.

"Bastard." I huff. She smirks amusedly at me. "I don't like him." I shrug. She raises her brows and goes to pick up her sandwich. "I don't like him... _flirting _with you."

She nods her head dramatically as if to say, "Ahh..."

* * *

We finish our meal in silence, which I'm grateful for. I can't imagine having to confess the thoughts playing with my brain through a mouthful of roasted soya bean.

"How are we enjoying our lunch, ladies?"

Quinn is so polite. Usually, I'd try the same, but today has been hard already and we're not even half way through. I snap. "_We," _I say gesturing between Quinn and me, "were enjoying our afternoon just fine until _you _came over here with your _horrid _attempt at flirtation." I do my best to stare daggers into him, but I've never been great at it.

His jaw hangs slightly askew and Quinn just looks at me, clearly amused, before saying, "We'll just get the check, then." The waiter walks away stunned and I hang my head to try to appear that I feel more shame than frustration. "You all right, Rae?"

"Yes." I answer much too quickly. She sighs exasperatedly but she still has a smile on her face. So I smile back.

A different boy brings the bill and _he _has the good sense not to make more eye contact than is polite. I wonder briefly if I've been talked about behind my back, but then I just feel proud.

As I reach for the check my hand grazes Quinn's. We glance at each other and she gestures for me to go ahead. How surprisingly easy _that _was. I look over it and take out my wallet. "How much was mine?" She asks, already reaching for the check. Oh.

I snatch it away from her. "Don't worry about it."

"Rachel." She says in a tone I heard her use on Beth last night.

"Really, Quinn. I want to do this."

"But _I _don't want you to do this."

"Why?"

"Because this isn't a date." She gives me a pointed look.

I clutch the check in my hand firmly, returning her gaze with as much determination I can muster. Which isn't much, as I feel my nerves swirling in my gut. But Quinn just purses her lips and shakes her head while relaxing into her seat. "You're so stubborn."

"I want you to keep that in mind." Our check is taken and my card is returned, and we just stare at each other until I shrug and get up from my seat. "May I walk you home?"

"Rachel…"

"We've barely spoken. I'd like to keep talking."

She bites her lip and I can't decide if I want to hold her hand or take her up against the nearest wall. "Fine." I guess I'll just walk her home.

We begin our walk back and I feel terrified, but she gave us a start before our food came. So… here I go. "I know you're not Finn." I see her nod out of the corner of my eye. "I've been selfish, and I've gotten what I wanted out of this." I chance a glace at her and I see that confusion has clouded her features. "I've tried _very _hard not to think about what you get out of this, Quinn. I don't like to think that I may just be convenient for you."

"Rachel-"

"But lately, I don't like to dwell on the possibility that you _care_."

"_Why_?"

"Because my whole life has been about this city. I might have a great relationship with my fathers, but they're the only _real_, functional relationship I've ever had. Finn was only ever with me because he had no direction. I was going somewhere and he was just going to follow me."

"But that's _not_ what _I_ did." She states quietly.

"I know." I reply, embarrassed. "But I could _never_ figure out how I became so co-dependent in that relationship, so I could _never_ prevent that from happening."

"Rae, you got that way because you didn't think anyone else would ever love you the way that Finn _claimed_ to." She sounds frustrated and it makes me feel guilty; like I've known this the whole time and have just been such a goddamned coward.

"I'm sorry." I say in a small voice that matches the way I feel right now.

She takes my forearm and leads me to a secluded alley way. "I don't need you to be sorry." She's stares imploringly right into my eyes. My breath hitches at the intensity of the green that has taken over. "I need you to make a move; either toward me or away from me." The threat of tears is once again imminent. "Because this thing we've been doing for the past two years? It's broken now; by all of the questions and sentiments. Ok?" I nod shakily. Her eyes soften a bit at the sight of my first tear burning down my cheek. She raises her hand to catch the next one and my eyes flutter closed. "I will give you _time_, Rae. If you want _me_, you can have time. I'll wait. Because I've never wanted _anyone_ else." I force my eyes open to see that hers have begun watering as well. "All I need is for you to tell me what you _want_." She sniffles but manages a small, encouraging smile.

She's so brilliantly stunning. Not just her flawless face or her impeccable body, but her mind and the words it pushes through the kiss hidden at the corner of her lips. "You." She bites her lip to contain her smile. "I just don't wanna drag you along anymore, but I don't even know where to start." I cry out.

She raises her other hand to cup my other cheek. "Just kiss me."

So I do. I stretch my neck the short distance to graze my lips against hers. She fits her top lip above mine so that her bottom one is between both of mine; and it's _so soft_. We fit. We've never kissed like this before. It's always been harsh and needy as a prelude to a quick, easy orgasm. Never reverent like this one. This one is perfect, I decide as I smile into the kiss. I feel her smiling back at me.

When we finally break the gentle graze, she rests her forehead on mine while we just breathe. This moment is everything. This moment is ours and no matter what happens later, I won't ever give it back. Not for anything.

* * *

**AN2: Thanks for reading, everyone! This is not the last we'll see of Rachel's insecurities. I plan on keeping this as realistic as possible. I am pretty nervous about this one, so please let me know what you guys think. It really means a lot to me. I'll see you next time!**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Sorry for the wait, and the relatively short length. Family shit. Hence the angst. Thank you SO much for all the reviews and favorites/alerts. It makes me smile through the bad stuff. (:**

* * *

**Chapter Five: Volcano**

A blush has colored my cheeks since that kiss, but I think I'll blame it on the imminent winter. Not that Quinn has asked. If she had, she would have had to answer for her own. I'm a nice girl. I would have provided her the excuse of the season. But as it's seventy-two degrees in October, she might have just laughed at me.

Any which way I imagine this, we've simply been walking toward Quinn's apartment in complete silence. I don't know how to feel about the kiss, other than smitten. Which is a silly word. I haven't decided how I _feel _about the _feeling_. And it would seem Quinn doesn't have anything to say about it. This is hard. I mean, everything I've ever had with this girl has always been hard. She made my life hell until she got pregnant, and _that_… _that_, I don't have time to think about right now. But after Beth was born there was still always this _tension _that was never acknowledged until Senior year, when we jumped into bed together; where _feelings _don't exist.

God, I'm Rachel Berry. When the hell did feelings become my enemy? I'm an actor! I sing!

Feelings have been my enemy since Quinn's accident. I _felt _so much that day; validated in our Regional's win, scared of marriage, unsure of Finn, of my future, excited that somebody loved me and then terrified. Screaming, crying, and kicking and then nothing. I can recall the moment well enough. I was in the hospital waiting room with Finn's giant arms wrapped around my heaving body, tears literally soaking my _pretty white dress_. Finally, I had managed to lift my head but only at the sound of someone else's screams. There stood a blurry image of Judy Fabray holding little Beth's face into the crook of her neck. Then my throat closed up and the tears stopped flowing and I suddenly felt nothing. Nothing but _shame_.

Shame at the boy beside me; for letting him follow me, for following him. Shame that I'd turned into a person who ignores their feelings. Shame that I had never let myself _feel _that much for Quinn, until the moment I thought I'd lose her. Shame that because I hesitated, my _feelings _were not valid with Judy Fabray in the room. So I was numb. Out of respect. Out of fear.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" Quinn asks as she gently nudges my shoulder with hers.

I wave my hand dismissively and shrug my shoulders. "Just thinking."

"About what?" She asks in a playful tone that I can't help but smile at.

"Just about how we got here."

I see her nod once and purse her lips from my peripheral. "And what'd you come up with?" She glances at me sideways for a short second.

If I try to talk right now, it's going to come out a jumbled mess. But this is what we're doing now. It's what we've started. So I take a long breath, buying my time so that my answer doesn't come out as impossibly tangled as my thoughts. "I was just thinking that… I don't know." Her brows furrow, but her lips twitch upwards. I sigh. "This came out of nowhere."

"It was always there, Rae."

"No, I know." I just need to focus on something. The sound of those three-tone purple pumps clicking against the pavement. The sway of her hips. The wind blowing through her hair. Just focus. "_You _were always there. Like I couldn't get away from you." Wow. Way to go. Ok, her pretty pink pout. Focus. "Not… like that." I'm exasperated with _myself _right now. This happens often when I'm with Quinn. "Like the only way I could _not _feel anything for you was if I didn't feel _anything _at all."

"What are you so scared of?"

"You." We're stopped outside of her building now and she's looking at me as if I've just stomped on her throat. _Payback_. Damnit, focus! "I'm stupid, Quinn." She opens her mouth to weigh in, but I beat her to it. "I imagined falling in love with you and… it was terrifying. That first day, Junior year, when you just _smiled _at me; I saw this picture of you. And there was nothing else in it. It was just me holding you. Just us." I give her a shy smile and she blushes so prettily. "I saw a picture where _nothing _mattered to me but you. And I ran away from it, straight into some sketch drawing of a life I thought would provide me what I wanted." Her eyes hold something like pity… or love. I close my eyes and suck in a long breath to focus my thoughts. When I open them I see the most brilliant mixture of green and golden-brown, and care and shine. I let out my breath. "I've been doing to you what I let Finn do to me." Her brows crease adorably, but I can't bring myself to smile this time. "I've been taking advantage of the way you feel so that I don't have to think about what _I _feel. And I'm so sorry, Quinn." My voice breaks and I think I may just exhaust my tear-ducts today.

Her lithe hands grasp my hips and pull me towards her where she's leaning against the metal gate outside of her building. She leans forward and rests her forehead upon mine and my eyes flutter closed. The only sound in the world is our mingling breaths until she speaks. "I forgive you for every day." It's so gentle, I just want forever. I want to be somebody who _deserves_ her.

Just as Quinn raises her chin to kiss my forehead at the sound of my whimper, I hear a voice I haven't heard in so long. But there's no mistaking it. "Fuck, you guys are right outside. You couldn't take twenty more steps?" Santana Lopez. I almost laugh when I recall 'Aunty Tana' but I cower at that same fire in her dark eyes that's always been there. Only the slightest nod given in acknowledgment of my presence.

Quinn sighs heavily and steps back from me, leaning fully against the gate again, but bolts upright when Beth says, "Yeah. Fuck, Mom."

Her almond eyes go wide and Santana is cackling. I try very hard to suppress my own laughter but the little smirk on Beth's face when she tugs at the Latina's sleeve is too much. Quinn bends down and picks up her daughter, swinging her around to rest on her hip. "Don't talk like that, baby." She chastises in the sweetest tone.

"Tana said it would be funny." Santana's _still _laughing. She might actually be crying. I however, have managed to stop. _Barely_.

"I'm sure she did, baby. But Mommy says no, ok?" Beth nods her head vehemently, satisfaction still painting her face. I can tell Quinn is about to add something, but Beth gives her a little peck on the cheek, and Quinn just smiles. "So, how was the zoo? Tana didn't teach you anything else, did she?" She looks pointedly at Santana who just raises her hands in her own defense.

"She taught me lots." I have to hide my laughter again at the pained expression Quinn wears. "She taught me 'bout tigers, and snakes, and… Oh! There was a big black thing! It was, um-"

"A scorpion, novia." Santana provides with a smile I haven't ever seen on her face before.

"Yeah! A scorpion! It was black and _so _cool, Mom. Tana said it's like you." Santana looks nervous for split second before Beth adds, "Because your birthday."

We all nod in understanding. "That's right, baby. Mommy's a Scorpi-_o_." Beth nods her head again, obviously proud of her retention skills, as is Quinn.

"Sup, Berry?" Santana suddenly asks. I have to say, I wasn't expecting her to say anything to me. If she knows as much about me as Kurt knows about Quinn, I'm sure she hates me. Quinn is her best friend, and I'm the bitch who likes to fuck with her.

"Not a whole lot, Santana. It's good to see you, though." I smile sweetly at her. She just scoffs and rolls her eyes.

"Hi Rachel." Beth says quietly with a small smile tugging at her lips. But she must sense the tension because she looks to Santana immediately after, and after the Latina gives her a reassuring smile and a nod, Beth turns back to me and asks, "What were you doing to Mommy just now?" My eyes are just as large as Quinn's now. Santana laughs heartily, proud of her little ingenue. Beth just giggles a little bit and turns to bury her face into her mother's neck.

"You tired, baby?" Quinn asks, relieved that there won't be an actual inquiry. The picture of Beth's little blonde head nodding against Quinn's neck is like a Precious Moments calendar. Quinn kisses her daughter's hair and says into her ear, "Let's get you cleaned up and then pick out a cartoon, ok?" Beth nods tiredly again. "Santana, are you staying for dinner?" Ouch. That hurt a little. Not that we've spoken much to the new dynamic we'll be sharing in our recently progressed relationship. But still, it tingles a bit in my chest.

Santana turns a smirk at me darkly, and I can't hold her menacing gaze. "For sure, Q. I'll be up in a minute. I need a ciggie."

Quinn nods apprehensively and smiles beautifully at me before mouthing 'I'll call you' and turning away. Somehow, I know I'm not meant to leave until Santana dismisses me. I _do _owe her this kind of thing. An interrogation, relative threats and the like. As we watch the two blondes approach the glass double doors I distinctly hear Beth murmur, "Can I have a ciggie?" Santana and I both let out a small laugh at that, but my smile dies when she returns that dangerously fierce grin.

"All right, Berry. Listen up." I straighten my back in an attempt to mask my _actual _fear. "You got my girl Q wrapped around your little, midget fingers and that? Pisses me off." I open my mouth to state reassurances in as brave a tone as I can muster, but she waves her finger at me once before proceeding. "Nuh-uh. I don't wanna hear it. You're gonna have to show me." I furrow my brow and she snickers. "Here's the deal, bitch. I don't trust you. _At all_." She has every right. I know this. But the last few minutes are kind of starting to burrow their way into my heart to seek and destroy. "All this time, guess who's been here for Q. Me. So I'm gonna _be here_ to see every little mistake you make, every single lie that you tell, and every time you let her down. Got it?"

My ears and chest are burning with unwarranted rage. Everything she's saying is right. She _should _be here, just in case I screw up. _When _I screw up. But I steel my resolve and even out my breathing. "I'm not _going_ to make a mistake." It comes out a cracked whisper; vulnerable and pleading.

I close my eyes against my tears at the sound of Santana snickering again. "Wishful thinking, Berry. That's wishful, _pointless _thinking. We both know it's happened many times before, and it's only a matter of time before it happens again. I'm just here to tell you that when you _do_ fuck up, I'm gonna draw a giant, fucking rainbow-colored arrow to it and then I'm gonna _waste_ you. Got it?" I sniffle once, hating that I'm giving her the satisfaction of making me cry. But I'm _so _guilty, so I simply nod. And when I gather the courage to open my eyes, her exotic features are hard-set and her jaw is tight. "And don't do that shit in front of el pequeno, ok? It'll just confuse her when you're gone." Then she walks away, and I feel my insides crumble.

* * *

I caught a cab to Kurt's and then I asked the driver to take me to a bar. But when I got out and looked in through the windows at all the drunkards who start drinking at three in the afternoon, I decided to walk home. The sun is warm on my skin, but dramatically, I wish it were gone. All of my actions in the last four years are playing in my head like a sad movie without a happy ending. It makes me feel cold. It makes me wish it would start raining suddenly and very hard just to maintain some kind of consistency. But the sun is shining and the birds are singing and the people are yelling. And I'm just _cold_.

Santana has always been harsh, but she has _never _been a liar. Like today; all of that was true or will probably turn out to be true in the end. An end that I can see, that I _have _seen so clearly since the beginning. An end where I fail and the good things in my life float away from me in disappointment and disgust. A future where personal failure radiates off of me like cheap perfume, stinging the noses of everyone I meet as a warning.

'It'll just confuse her when you're gone.' This is hitting me particularly hard. It's like I never even stood a chance in this. Quinn has a life, and I want to be in it. But would I ever fit with the rest of it? Would I make a good partner? Or forget that; will I even make it _there_?

A small part of me is insisting that if I'm grateful for Santana's presence in Quinn's life, then I _do _care for Quinn. But it's an underdeveloped idea being mercilessly bullied by the bigger, scarier ones.

Seemingly out of nowhere, I approach my apartment building. I honestly don't know how I got here. But when I finally walk through my door, I strip my clothes and fall onto my bed, bringing a blanket up over my head to block out that dreadfully happy sun.

* * *

When I wake to the standard ring of my phone, it's dark outside. I reach blindly for it while trying to remember the end of whatever dream I was having, but all I can recall are soft-looking palms held out in front of me. I grasp the device with one hand and rub the sleep from eyes with the other. It's Quinn. "Hello?" I croak unattractively.

"Hey. Did I wake you?" She asks in a hesitant tone.

"No, I was just… um, yeah, asleep." I say with a laugh. Checking the time, it's only nine o'clock. She must have just finished putting Beth to bed. '_When_ you're gone,' echoes in my brain.

"Santana wore you out then?" She asks sheepishly.

I huff a short laugh and sit up, leaning my back against the headboard. "Yes. She did."

"I'm sorry. She's just so protective of Beth and-"

"Don't apologize. She really loves you. Both of you." I say honestly, bringing a small smile to my face.

"I know she does." I can tell Quinn is smiling, too. After a silent beat, she asks, "How bad was it?"

I sigh. "Not so bad. Just a little like being set on fire, I guess." I hear her wince. "It was fine, Quinn. She has every right to her suspicions of me, and I like that you have her around."

"You do?"

"Yeah." We're both silent, probably both of us reading into what I've just said. So I just decide to clear it up a little. "She's good to you, I can tell." There is a long pause and I think I might have lost reception. "Quinn?"

"Rae…" I can hear the deep breath she takes. She spits it all out in one breath. "I used to sleep with Santana."

An undeserved jealousy squeezes my heart once and begins pumping a burning possessive blood through my veins. My brows furrow and my eyes squint and my mouth fills with blood, I'm biting my tongue so hard. I can't hear Quinn's breath anymore my free hand is clenching around nothing, turning my skin an angry red. "_What_?"

* * *

**AN2: So I promise to update faster. I think I'll be able to use this fic to process what's going on in my life; exploring longevity and permanence and trust and work within a relationship. I'm going to try really hard to get another chapter up by tomorrow night. Please bear with me.**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: God, you guys are the best. All of you. **

**I probably should have made a point in saying that this will NEVER be a Quinntana fic. I do love me some of that, but this is strictly Faberry. My spell check is going nuts over these conjoined names. All right, onward!**

**Disclaimer: Just a reminder that I own almost nothing. Definitely not any of these characters. If I did Quinn would ride a horse everywhere while she can't walk.**

* * *

**Chapter Six: Ghosts in My Machine**

"_Rae…" I can hear the deep breath she takes. She spits it all out in one breath. "I used to sleep with Santana." _

_An undeserved jealousy squeezes my heart once and begins pumping a burning possessive blood through my veins. My brows furrow and my eyes squint and my mouth fills with blood, I'm biting my tongue so hard. I can't hear Quinn's breath anymore. My free hand is clenching around nothing, turning my skin an angry red. "_What_?" _

A loud siren down in the street jolts me from my sleep. A sheen of sweat is covering my body, my sheets are clinging to me and I feel disgusting.

Santana really fucked with my head today. I have this gut-wrenching feeling that she has everything that I want. Everything that I thought was in my grasp this afternoon actually belongs to her. Given, I'm fairly certain that Santana has never, will never sleep with Quinn. It's just overwhelming to have an ideal offered to you only to get crushed by a fiery Latina reality moments later.

'It'll just confuse her when you're gone.' I keep coming back to this. Little Beth doesn't deserve to wait for me to figure things out. Really, Quinn doesn't deserve it either. But Quinn is an adult; she made a decision to wait. And I'm so grateful. I don't know, maybe I should just trust that she's thought about Beth in the middle of all of this. I know she's an excellent mother. I saw it in high school, and what I've seen of their relationship as of late is beautiful. But my mind always wanders. What's the worst thing that could happen? How badly could I possibly screw this up? I feel like it could be _life altering _bad. Like I give up, never again, fuck the world bad.

This is too much. There's this pressure weighing on my chest and it's making it difficult to breathe. Every feeling I have - excitement, caution, fear… love - they're all tangled up in my throat and my heart is beating much too fast. I desperately try to suck in long, slow breaths of air, but with my hand above my left breast, my heart is rebelliously refusing to slow. I can feel tears pricking at the corners of my eyes and it makes everything worse. The sweat-soaked sheets are soft against my palms as I cling to them for some sort of comfort. Tears are burning on my skin now and I squeeze my eyes shut. What is this feeling? Am I having a heart attack? What do the sheets remind me of? There's an image silhouetting against my eyelids. It's still blurry with tears, but I grasp at it. It's the hands. The outstretched, soft hand from my dream. I know these hands. Quinn.

Slowly, my breathing slows with my heart and I sit at the edge of my bed. I feel exhausted despite having slept for six hours. My bones ache. I'm parched, but I can't make my legs work right now. So I just lie back down, turn over onto my side and close my eyes again.

Google is telling me that I had a panic attack last night. Which makes sense, I guess. I _was _truly panicking. But still, I've never had one before and it felt like I might die. Of course, now I know that there is a very slim chance of actually inducing a heart attack during a panic attack.

I'm feeling much better now. I've had some breakfast and some water, and I've gone for my run. Sunday's are usually boring for me. It's simply a day to recharge before my week starts again. I wonder how Quinn spends her Sundays? I suppose I'm permitted to wonder about that now, aren't I? But doing something too fast would be just as bad as not doing it at all. Or something. So the only thing I need to know is; is it too soon to ask Quinn what she does on Sundays? I'm going to say yes for now. Weekends are for Beth, I know this. So Quinn and Beth are together today. So I need to stay away from that until I get figure out more, and I get braver. Then I can ask Quinn how she spends her Sundays. With Beth.

I suddenly remember that Quinn said that she'd call yesterday, but I crashed out so early I probably missed her call. _Yes_, ok? I'm looking for an excuse to call Quinn. I grab my phone from my jeans' pocket it spent the night in and sure enough, one missed call. From Quinn. Ooh, there's a message.

"Hey, Rae. I just wanted to say hi, I guess. Um, make sure Santana didn't scare you off, or anything. You can give me a call whenever. I hope you're having a good night." So cute. Oh god, I'm turning into _that _girl already. 'Quinn is _so _cute, she's _so _perfect, she's _so mine_.' That last one throws me for a second but I snap back when Quinn answers her phone. "Hello." She greets cheerily.

"Hey. Sorry I missed your call last night. I fell asleep when I got home." I tell her with little laugh.

"Really? You and Beth are _so _similar." Tease.

"Hmm. I'm sure." I joke back.

"Oh yeah. You both take naps; you're both so tiny… I mean the list goes on, yeah?"

"So are you done drawing comparisons between your daughter and the girl you-"

"I'm done! Don't finish!" She laughs. I smirk in victory. "So how's your Sunday?"

I spot an opening. Wow. Even my thoughts sing. "It's going well, thank you. And yours?"

"It's great. I'm just hanging out at home today. We have family dinner later on."

"Yeah? Just you and Beth, or…"

"Santana usually comes, too. Sometimes she'll have work or something, but she tries really hard to make it."

"That's nice." I know I sound clipped. My tone has probably left Quinn unsure of how to respond. It's just, the 'talk' I had with Santana yesterday, and the dream and the panic attack. But now I wish that I could rewind life just a few seconds so that I could be more tactful. Too late.

"How bad was she yesterday?" Quinn asks hesitantly.

"She was… Santana. That I know and remember." Quinn sighs into the phone. "It was fine, Quinn. She was just being protective." This feels too familiar, and for a silly moment I think it might turn out like my dream.

"She truly was. She doesn't hate you. Well, not really." She sounds apologetic. She doesn't need to.

"That's good to hear." I reply sarcastically. Quinn starts in again, but she really doesn't need to apologize for her _friend_. "Quinn, I'm serious. I'm fine. She said things that I needed to hear. It's hard, but I'm fine." I say genuinely.

There's a silent beat before Quinn mutters an, "Ok." Then I just listen to her breathe for a moment. It's not as creepy as it sounds. I hope. "Does it bother you that she comes for family dinner?"

I sigh. "Yes. But it shouldn't, so I'm working on it." At least, I think this is the right answer. I truly will work on it. When my wounds heal from yesterday afternoon.

"Why do you think it bothers you?"

She sounds like a psychiatrist. It's oddly comforting. "I just… know that she has more of you than I do, and that it's my fault."

"Rae-"

"No. It's true. If we're ever gonna make something work for us, I need to acknowledge that I've screwed up. I have to remember so that I don't do it all over again." So that I can learn a way to finally _have _you.

"You're right." She sighs. I hum in response and she scoffs at my smugness. "What are you doing Monday evening?"

"Um… nothing?" I feel some teenage grin pull on my lips.

"Do you think we should have dinner?"

"I do think that three proper meals a day are necessary to sustain a healthy lifestyle. And as a mother, I think you should already know this." She just giggles a bit. "I'd love to have dinner with you, Quinn."

"Good. Smart ass."

* * *

Jesse is pouting spectacularly at me. It almost makes me feel sorry for anyone I've ever pouted at before. "But we're gaybies." He whines at me.

"Why can't we still be gaybies? Aren't you going out with that guy?" I reply pulling out my notes for class.

"No. He's a dick." I simply glance at him questioningly. "Don't make a gay joke. They're never funny. Tell me again what's going on?"

I sigh, exasperated with the man child sitting next to me. "Quinn and I. Are going. On a _date_." I draw out the last word and a few students turn a round to give me dirty look, but I just roll my eyes.

"Yes, but how did this come about? I just talked to you on Friday. You said something about plans? I don't know, I honestly thought you were talking about sex toys."

A few more people turn around at that, slightly less irritated now. Perverts. I slap his harm. _Hard_. "I was not talking about… _that_." He juts out his bottom lip extra far as he begins rubbing his arm. "We were supposed to have coffee, something happened, so we had lunch on Saturday."

"Per whose suggestion?"

"Mine." Jesse looks mildly impressed before he waves his hand, telling me to continue. "We had a nice time. We talked. And-"

"Details. _All _of them. You owe me now." He says sternly, returning the soothing circles on his arm.

"You're such a baby. Anyway, we talked about what we've been doing. And we're both interested in exploring the possibility of more. With like, each other." Suddenly I'm shy? "And we've agreed to go on a date on this evening." I finish in a tone I believe to be strong.

"Who's gonna pay?" I hadn't thought of that. I've never had that problem before. I stare at him dumbly, willing the answer out of him through puppy eyes. "Did she ask you?" I nod. "Then she's probably counting on covering you." He turns his head from me to stare straight ahead, lost in thought.

I don't know if I like the idea of Quinn paying for our first… date. That word is foreign on my tongue, in my brain. It makes me tingle every single time. That same tingle I got when Quinn asked me to dinner. But on a first date, I would very much like to make a good impression, as to show her that I'm not completely inept. You know, like in a romantic comedy of some sort. Where the man says, 'Oh, I've got this.' And the girl beams at his chivalry. Wow, I've never really compared myself to a man before. But I think that it's the appropriate analogy to fit the picture of what I want. What I'm expecting. "I wanna pay for it." I finally voice indignantly.

"I know." Jesse sounds far away still. I should have just assumed that he knew. God, between him and Kurt, they know everything about me. Complete with helpfully insightful comments that _I _am often too wrapped up to come to on my own. Maybe Quinn should date them. "Ok, so just act like you were _totally _unaware of even the _faintest _possibility she might be paying for dinner. You know, act like you were _expecting _to cover it."

"What if she's offended?"

"No. Just don't say something stupid, like, 'Oh, you've got a kid to take care of.' You know how you get."

"I do not." I scoff and fold my arms over my chest. He looks at me pointedly. I roll my eyes, but mumble out a 'fine' just as our professor enters through the theatre doors.

* * *

The white ceiling doesn't offer as many answers as I thought it would. No answers at all, actually. It really only stares back at me. And if it had eyes it would be blushing at my naked form. I spent an hour rummaging through my closet and couldn't settle on one thing to wear tonight. Maybe Quinn wouldn't mind if I showed up nude? Yeah, maybe not.

God, the last date I was on must have been… one week before the accident? Yes, that sounds right. I insisted that Finn take me out before the Glee club threw itself into preparing for Regional's full time. He took me to Breadstix. It was spectacularly ordinary. The only vegan dish the restaurant serves is Cobb salad, minus the Cobb. It was the same date he always took me on.

And now, after dismissing every article of clothing I own as a viable fashion option, the ceiling won't talk to me. Of course, I'm not crazy. I only settled for the ceiling when Kurt didn't answer my calls. I can't call Jesse unless I want to hear all the ways that I'll manage to make a fool out of myself tonight. So the ceiling is a perfect shade of blank to make a beautiful backdrop to my worries and anticipation. Sure, it won't tell me what to wear on my date. But a smile pulls at my lips as I begin to picture my impending evening.

As long as I don't think about Santana, I can smile about this. Be happy. I know that I'll eventually need to consider what she told me again. I'll need to bring it up to Quinn. I'll need to tell her that I had a panic attack when the idea of responsibility crossed my mind. She might leave me when I finally do. And that terrifies me just as much as anything else does. But a small part of me is cupping my cheeks in its delicate palms and whispering into my ear that we can do this. A memory. Of Quinn.

My phone begins vibrating against my nightstand and I give the ceiling one last genuine grin before reaching to answer it. Finally. "Kurt."

"Rachel."

"I need you."

"I assumed as much from the three missed calls. First things first, are you alive?"

I love our friendship. After we stopped competing against each other, we've been inseparable. Kurt was there when I choked at my NYADA audition and he was there the entire time I fought for another chance. He's seen me at my worst, and he's still here. He gives me hope. "Barely. My wardrobe is not cooperating."

"Ooh, special occasion?"

"Very. I have an outing with a Miss Fabray this evening that one might file under 'courtship.'"

"Oh my god! Rachel! Are you serious?"

"Yes." He's always been a huge Quinn supporter. They had their differences in high school. But I fear I may have kept them from a beautiful friendship by silently requesting Kurt take a side. I feel guilty when I talk to him about Quinn, but he always insists that he's the best for it. He's the only person in the world that loves me enough to not give up on me. Besides my fathers, most of the time. "She asked me yesterday."

"Ok. I'm in work mode, honey. You need the green dress. And the Steve Madden's."

I picture myself in it for a moment and sigh contently. "You're a genius."

"You say that like its news." I make my way over to my closet to lay the dress out. "Ok, so she asked you, but is she like, taking _you _out? Or…"

"I think she's planning on it."

"But you're planning something else." He interrupts before I can say it.

"Yes. What do you think about that?"

"I think it sounds like Jesse's idea and you should follow Quinn's lead."

"Oh." I say with a disappointed frown.

"Rachel, she asked you out. You need to let her take you, you know?"

"No." I pout.

"She has a plan already. Don't… disrupt it. There's the right word."

"You think I'll ruin it by paying for dinner?"

"I think that she has a plan, hon. Just follow her."

This is not something I'm not used to. Did Quinn say this was part of the deal? No. No, I distinctly remember her telling me that she'd give me time. This thing that Kurt's suggesting sounds like it might be going in the complete opposite direction of what Quinn suggested. Or maybe not. Hm. Maybe this is a step I need to take _away _from our past and _into _our future. Ok, that sounded a little cheesy, but it also sounded correct. It sounded like _I _might be the genius. Oh, right. This is Kurt's wisdom. "Ok."

"Ok?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Kurt."

"Of course, Rachel. You're gonna be great. Just be yourself."

"You sound like my fathers."

"Blah, blah, blah. Just follow Quinn."

"Ok."

* * *

When I open my door, I could swear a screw comes loose in my jaw. It's becoming hard to breathe again. I've seen this woman naked for blank's sake. I should be used to this; the sensuality, the beauty, the _sex _radiating from Quinn. But this is too much. This shade of blue is incredible against her skin and her hair is done up out of her face. She's so striking. All of her supple curves are hugged and showcased, and her toned legs would be so _snug _around my hips.

"Hi." I've been silent a long while, I just know it. But with my bottom lip between my teeth, I can't speak. "Um. Are you ok?"

My lecherous eyes travel back up to her stunning, blushed face. My head pops straight up and my show smile is on in full force. "Of course. I apologize Quinn. It's just you look… breathtaking."

Her blush deepens and she looks to the floor to hide it. "Thank you." She says quietly. "You look fantastic." She does this breathy giggle that she favors when she's nervous, and it makes me blush as well. We're like a couple of school girls. Only we've known each other since we _were _school girls and we've had each other in the most physical way, over and over again. Still, I can't help it. If Quinn is nervous, especially looking the way she does, then I think I have every right to be nervous. "Um, the cab's waiting downstairs." She shuffles in front of my doorway.

"Oh! Right. Ok, then… shall we?" She smiles broadly at me before gesturing for me to walk out in front of her. As we walk down the hallway towards the elevator in silence, the realization dawns on me that this is our first planned visit without any intention to fuck in over two years. It makes me feel a bit light-headed; at the uncertainty of tonight, at the fresh feel, at my nerves roiling in my stomach, at the excitement trying to soothe me. I hold my elbow for Quinn to take when we exit the elevator, which she does hesitantly, but happily enough. I need something to hold on to right now. So I don't fall over or flee.

When we take our first steps outside, I suck in a deep breath of the night air. This is what my October feels like. It's not biting enough to sting the senses, but it's cool enough that I relax as I step into the cab.

"East Fifty-second, between Madison and fifth, please?" She didn't. Hello, my name is Rachel Berry and I'm officially being wooed. Like, for real this time.

"I've been wanting to go there." I say in awe.

Without even turning her head to me, Quinn replies, "I remember."

As I settle back into my seat, I blush profusely. Again.

* * *

The cab ride remained fairly silent for the duration of the trip, but when we take our seats inside the restaurant Quinn touches my elbow from across the table. "I don't want us to be afraid tonight." When I look up into her eyes, they're swirling and sparkling and all I can do is nod dumbly. "We _were _friends. Before."

"I know." I smile at her.

"I just want us to be us. And if that's awkward at first, so be it. I want this to be a step in a new direction."

"Me too." We smile at each other briefly before she moves to pick up her menu. "This is very thoughtful. Bringing me to a vegan restaurant."

She quirks her brow up, still reading the menu and says, "I know." I huff a laugh at her smugness. I know she's mostly teasing, though. _Mostly_. "You're not gonna make me eat _fake _food, are you?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You know, you won't go on a hunger strike or something if I order an animal by-product?" Her eyes are shining with mischief now.

"I suppose not, but just think about if I were to order a _Quinn _by-product." I decide to play along. But when she nearly starts choking on her suppressed laughter, I go over what I've just said and… ok, wow.

"_Here _in the restaurant? That would be new. And _wanky_." She's still laughing at me.

"You hang out with Santana too much."

"That I do." She smirks just as I'm lifting my menu to cover yet another blush. "You know, she told me about the other day." I raise my eyebrows over the top of the menu, feigning indifference. "She apologized to me. Which she never does."

"What did she have to apologize for?" I ask sweetly.

Quinn gives me a pointed look that I nearly crumble underneath. "She said that she was out of line. She's sent food back to the kitchen half-eaten, she's Santana. She doesn't really do apologies." I simply smile at her, willing her to continue. She sighs with a grin tugging at her lips. "You said she was just being protective."

"She was."

"Rae."

I pick up my menu again, trying to distract myself from what I'm about to say. Going back to that dark idea again. "She may have implied that I don't _belong _in your life."

"What did she say?"

"She just loves you and Beth."

"She talked about Beth?" Quinn asks nervously.

"Yes. And though it felt a little like setting myself on fire, it needed to be said. Just because I'm a grown up doesn't mean I always remember my surroundings. She just reminded me, Quinn. That's all." She still looks skeptical, but returns to her menu. Sure, I'm leaving out the burning way Santana's words sank into my ears. But I'm still right. "You know, I had a dream that you told me you had sex with her."

Her head pops back up at that, and I smirk at her wide eyes. "What?"

"Yeah. We were on the phone. And you said, 'Rae… I used to sleep with Santana.'"

"I swear you live in a movie."

"Sometimes." I reply coyly as our waiter comes to serve us. I'm feeling much more confident than I was at the start of the day. Or at the start of _Quinn_. I like this date.

* * *

**AN2: Thank you so much for reading guys! The coolest. Anyway, I know that Rachel might seem self-deprecating, but it's part of the story. I swear. And there will be a second part to their date, also. Yay! But the minor fluff will not last forever. **

**I seriously love all of your reviews. The smile on my face when I get a notification actually hurts my face. Keep 'em coming! I love knowing what you guys think!**


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: You guys are incredible! I cannot believe the response to this story. It makes me want to write all day and update with whatever Rockstar infused rambles I come up with. But I think you guys deserve more than that. **

**That being said; this chapter is pretty short. Just the end to Faberry's first date. I hope you like it!**

* * *

**Chapter Seven: A Hero With a Face**

"Batman is clearly superior." She says indignantly around a mouthful of frozen yogurt.

"No way! He's a spoiled rich kid with _way _too much free time." I'm really only doing this because I find her adorable.

She gives _the best _'what the hell' face I've ever seen, licks her spoon and settles it into her treat. She takes a long breath and I'm trying so hard not to laugh. "His parents were murdered when he was a kid." God, she's so serious. I don't know how much longer I can last. "He fights for justice, Rae. He never even kills anybody! He's the _only_ real hero. Ever." Even Quinn can't get through the last word without breaking into a fit of giggles, and I immediately join her.

"I actually thought you were serious for a second." I gasp through my laughter.

All of the sudden, Quinn's laughter is gone. When I look to her, still fighting my own off, her eyes are narrowed and her brow is creased. "Batman _is _the only hero." She deadpans. My mouth is agape and I stutter over several different apologies until Quinn cocks her brow at me and smiles.

I smack her playfully on her shoulder as she reaches for her spoon. "Fine. Batman beats-"

"Everyone."

"Stop talking with your mouth full." And then she sticks her chocolate yogurt covered tongue out at me and crinkles her nose. I laugh at her antics but reach for chin to close her mouth. "Stop that!"

She shakes her vehemently at me, her eyes shining with mischief. "Nope."

"You know what? You're grounded."

Quinn looks wounded for a moment, but she's still playing with me. We're being so playful this evening. It's refreshing. I can feel myself becoming more relaxed by the minute, and the fear only shakes me from time to time. Quinn said that we needed to be ourselves tonight, even if it was a little awkward. But it wasn't. At all. Conversation has come easy. 'I know a fro-yo place that has vegan selections?' 'That sounds perfect.' And of course, Batman versus Superman, Wonder Woman _and _Spiderman. First separately, then all at once. Personally, I highly doubt Batman's ability to terminate _any _of these hypothetical enemies, let alone _all _of them. But Quinn's logic is honorable, I suppose.

"I'm sorry." She says quietly, leaning in to assuage me with her smirking lips. My eyes flutter closed and I exhale deeply through my nose. Our lips are still slightly cold from the yogurt, but I can feel both pair quickly warming as we simply press our lips together. Quinn's hand settles on my knee and I move my arm to rest behind her on the bench when she repositions her head minutely to capture my bottom lip between both of hers. I suck gently at the pink pout between my own lips for whole seconds before Quinn pulls away and leans her forehead against mine. When I open my eyes I see that hers are still closed, lashes fluttering against her blushing cheeks. "I need to get home."

My heart pangs and I feel that fear again. "Was that wrong?"

"No." She shakes her head and finally opens her eyes, captivating even in the darkness. The moonlight sets her whole face aglow, and she cups my cold cheeks with her warm palms before kissing me again. Her lips linger on mine for a moment before she pulls away, shaking her head again. "No. I just… Beth." She smiles reassuringly at me, her lips and eyes shining in the night light.

I breathe a sigh of relief which she must notice by the way she moves her hands to take mine in each of hers. I stare at the connection for a long moment, and I can feel her studying my features with those hazel eyes. "Ok." I mutter. But I need it once more. I press my lips to hers firmly and I feel her body melt into my side, her breasts heaving slightly against my arm. I smile at the feeling, and I can feel her smile back, into the kiss.

"Walk with me?" She asks tentatively. I rise from the bench and hold out my hand for her to take. She smiles bashfully as she takes it and stands to walk with me.

This night has been perfect. Well, besides the very real uprising possibility of a dormant anxiety disorder. If I don't dwell on that, everything is perfect. And even then, it's anxiety over what I can't help but feel, which is a grand stride from just three days ago. Three days ago I panicked over _dinner_. Sure, it wasn't a full blown attack like yesterday morning. But it makes me feel weak when I look back. It makes me feel like I can't deal with anything, so why would I start a relationship with Quinn? She'll figure it out and leave. She's a woman, she has a family; she can't waste time with some scared little girl.

Ok. Not dwelling on this.

I focus on the cracks in the sidewalk and the warm hand in mine, and I can feel an attack ebb off before it even has a chance. I sigh deeply; contently.

"You ok?" Quinn's silky voice breaks me from my self-depreciating thoughts.

"Yeah. I'm very ok, actually." I shoot a smile her way, and I hope it appears as genuine as I feel.

"Good." She smiles back at me. "Me too."

We walk in silence for another couple of blocks, but as we draw closer to her building, I feel a nervous urge to prolong the evening. "We weren't awkward." I start lamely.

"No, we weren't."

I glance over at her to see her brow furrow a bit. I need to expound. "Until now." I laugh it off, which encourages her to do the same. "Sorry." I say self-consciously. She simply squeezes my hand and throws a smile my way. "I just mean that… I had a really great time." I finally manage as we approach the gate to her building.

She stops and turns to me, still holding my hand. "Me too, Rae." I palm her hips and pull her slightly into me so that we're resting our foreheads against each others again. "You turned out to be kinda sweet." She husks.

I pull my head back in faux shock. "Excuse me, Miss Fabray. I'm the sweetest person I know."

"Oh, I'm sure you are." She giggles as she moves one of her hands up behind my head and tries to pull me into her space.

"What do you think you're doing? You've just insulted me." I say indignantly as I weakly attempt to hold back.

"Shut up and kiss me." I give in. How could I not?

"So close. Literally? _Steps _away." Who would have ever thought Santana Lopez would be such a buzz kill.

I pull away from Quinn; my suspicions of my uncomfortable state around the Latina are being confirmed. "Where's my kid?" Quinn asks playfully when Beth is nowhere to be seen.

Santana shrugs and adopts this very confused face, something that reminds me of Finn. "You know, some guy came to the door a while ago. Said he'd take her off my hands for a twelve-pack. He seemed _nice_."

Of course, my eyes go wide. Sure, I can read the sarcasm, but I'm fully expecting Quinn to freak out, at least momentarily. But the blonde just smirks darkly at her before saying, "Stop trying to impress Rachel with your biting wit, Tana. She's not in the mood for desperate."

I bite back a laugh until, "Relax, Q. I'm sure Berry's _especially _in the mood for desperate. Just like always."

My eyes snap to fiery brown attached to a devilish grin. "Tana." Quinn snaps and glares at her.

My internal monologue can't decide if I should stay quiet or defend Quinn. I don't like what Santana's suggesting. "I might deserve your discordant judgment, but Quinn doesn't." I feel Quinn reach down between our bodies, so I instinctually take her hand.

Santana catches the movement and smirks at us both before locking eyes with me. "You work fast." Then she turns her gaze on Quinn, features softening into something genuine. "I'm sorry, Q." Quinn nods once in response. "Beth's asleep. The doors locked. And ah, you just give me a call if that hand leads you somewhere you don't wanna go, yeah?"

My heart drops. I shouldn't have expected anything to change since _Saturday_. How disgustingly hopeful of me. I've seen Santana twice since high school, and she despises me even more than she did then. How could she not? She's been listening to Quinn hurt at the hands of me for far too long. But I thought standing up for Quinn just now would have some miniscule effect on her attitude.

"Good night, Santana." Quinn says firmly. The Latina glances at me, huffs and turns away, walking down the street. I feel Quinn's hand finally relax in mine and she expels a breath as she turns to me. "I'm so sorry." She says heavily, locking our eyes.

"Don't apologize for her." She's about to protest. "No. She doesn't like me. I'm ok with that. It's gonna be my job to grow on her, ok? But I'm fine."

"You're sure?"

"Yes." I nod and peck her cheek. "I need to work some things out with her, obviously. And she's not gonna make it easy. But I just wanna find a place in your life."

"You don't need to impress Santana to do that, Rae."

"I know. But she's your best friend. She's in Beth's life. That doesn't go away just because I bring out the worst in her."

She smiles bashfully at me and I catch her eyes fluttering closed just before mine. It's a mere grazing of our lips while we adjust our positions, both of us wanting the dominance. I squeeze her hips in my hands and she gives in, leaning her body fully into mine. She wraps her arms behind my neck and begins playing with a strand of my hair. I drag my teeth lightly against her bottom lip and she pulls back with a frustrated groan, finger still twirling in my hair. "I need to go." She says almost mournfully, which makes me smirk. "I don't want her to wake up and be alone." She takes her plump lip between her own teeth trying to hold back her large grin, but she fails. "Good night, Rachel." She pecks a quick, wet kiss to my cheek before abruptly turning away and walking through the door.

I'm still and breathless outside of her building. My heart is beating out of control. "Good night, Quinn." I say to the spot where she's just left, lit by the moon and promises of… _something_.

_I _could be Batman.

* * *

**AN2: So not just a filler, this is setting up for some big things that our girls are going to have to work through. This will probably be the last chapter with major fluff for now. Maybe minor stuff here and there, I don't wan to angst you guys out. Also, a tribute to my intense love of Batman.  
**

**Anyway, please let me know what you guys think! I love hearing from all of you and your feedback definitely has an influence on the story. (:**


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Ok, so I totally lied about immediate angst. I don't think it's going to be so soon, as I'm taking this fic one day at a time. They will have real problems and I'm really anxious to see how you guys react to all of it. **

**Thanks SO much for everything, all of your support. You all rule so hard.**

* * *

**Chapter Eight: Me vs. Maradona vs. Elvis**

Even her silhouette is stunning. Though the window in the front of the building, she passes by to check on Beth, presumably. The way she floats passed my line of sight, so effortlessly, leaves me impossibly enamored of this dark figure behind the curtains. Even without her striking features played up by her fair hair draped just passed her high cheekbones, star-gazers like me can tell this seeming sprite from the fifth floor is much too radiant for our longing. But most of us realize that longing is as far as we'll ever get. Not me. I've been a given a chance. I've been given-

"Hey, Romeo." Awesome. Just as I was getting into it, that sarcastic voice cuts through my thoughts like a blade. Can she read my mind? Because now that she mentions it, that stream of Pe'trarchan thinking did sound a bit like that dumb ass kid.

I lower my head to look Santana in the eye, something I've not been brave enough to as of yet. I have to roll my neck twice to stretch it out from my straining stare upward. "Santana." I say dully.

"You know, you shouldn't stalk the people you're dating. It could get pretty confusing." She says, stopping three steps away from me.

"I thought you went home."

She shakes her head once and says, "Not before we have ourselves a little chat, Berry."

Great.

* * *

This coffee house looks dirty. And the smell, which I usually love, is frankly underwhelming here. I suppose it's pretty late, passed nine now, so they've stopped brewing coffee. If we want some, it's going to be a few hours old. Besides, I'm absolutely positive bringing me to a coffee house is some sort of evil plan orchestrated by Santana. I haven't gotten to the part where it might be damaging in any way, but I'm sure of it.

"Sit down, Berry." I huff, but do as I'm told. I was going to have to sit sooner or later. And since there's no way I'm drinking coffee at a place like this, with Santana, I guess I'll just sit now. "All right. Obvs, we need to be on the same page for Q's sake, yeah?" My eyebrows shoot up at her, wondering in what universe _we _could ever _be on the same page_. She sighs and rolls her eyes, "Ok. At least in the same book?" I tilt my head in acceptance of her compromise. "So I was thinking I should probs cut you some slack, or whatever." She shrugs.

"Are you serious?" I ask disbelievingly. No way could anything be this easy. Let alone, _Santana Lopez_.

"Yeah." She spits back at me, narrowing her eyes. "Listen. I'm like, sorry, or whatever, for what I said."

"Oh, when? Saturday, or just now?"

"Both." She grits out through a clenched jaw. "Q likes you for some stupid reason, and she has for a long fucking time." She leans back in her chair and sighs deeply, looking off to the side and then up at the ceiling. Mistake. They never have the answers. "I just… You need to remember that lo _se_. _Todo_. Every little wretched way you've made her feel. I _know _about it." She's not looking at me, and I'm grateful that I don't have to keep up a brave face anymore. I know Santana's trying to be _nice _right now, but it knocks the wind out of me anyway. "And I don't know how to say it any better than that, ok?" I nod glumly. "And you just… I mean all you have to do is _try_, you know? That's all anyone _can _do." I raise my head slowly to meet her gaze, which is shockingly sincere. Through the tears threatening to spill, I can see the conviction and the pain of first-hand experience. It's a little heartbreaking on someone who's so confident and biting all the time. You could almost forget that she's a real person.

"Where's Brittany?" I ask in a quiet voice, a large part of me hoping that she missed it. Something flashes in her eyes and she's now looking straight _through _me.

"I don't know." She says like even she can't believe it.

"I'm so sorry, Santana. I shouldn't have-"

"You probably shouldn't have. But that's kinda your style isn't it?" She turns a playful smile on me, but the hurt is still painstakingly evident on her exotic features. And then she turns to stone once more. "All right. So that's all I had to say." She rises from her chair and stretches her back for a moment before adding, "Oh, and, ah… if you hurt either one of mis ninas, I will ends you." She gives me a pointed look.

I can't completely hold back my laughter at the reprise of Lima Heights Santana. "Noted." She gives a small smile but raises her brow at me. "Seriously." I nod once and she walks away.

* * *

The night is getting cooler and I wish I'd brought a coat. I've decided to walk home with my thoughts instead of taking a cab. No room to think. Here on the broad city streets, I have space for everything Santana gave me to mull over. Of course, I had to get over the initial shock of her sincerity. I don't know that Santana. I'm not familiar with a Santana that looks out for friends. That realization has me apologizing to the wind. I suppose she was there some in high school. Absent most days, and simply tardy others. But Quinn trusts Santana with her family and her _heart_. This time there's no blind rage or jealousy accompanying that thought. I just need to get to know her better. Quinn said that I didn't need to impress Santana to earn a place in her life. But the truth is, if Santana doesn't like me, she'll just keep filling up all of the empty spaces; moving and dodging, all to be a good friend.

And then there's Brittany. How does Santana _not _know where she is? Obviously, they didn't work out. But _why_? They were perfect. Santana coming out Senior year was just the cherry on top of their adorable little lesbian muffin. I can't believe they're not together. Even when I thought I despised Santana, I always had faith in them as a couple. Santana was an entirely different person with Brittany. No yelling or cursing, just sweet, coquettish kisses and whispers. How did that fall apart?

Just as I come up on seventy-second, my phone buzzes in my purse. It's a text.

**From Quinn: please tell me I didn't see you walk off into the night with Santana. call me if you're dead.**

My hearty laugh gains a few questioning look. But honestly? This is New York City. Tell me you haven't seen a young woman in a great dress laugh to herself in the night before.

**To Quinn: we actually had a nice talk. oh, and I won't point out your obviously flawed logic.**

**From Quinn: ;) a nice talk, hey?**

**To Quinn: yup. It was a real 'best friend' talk. complete with threats originating from Lima Heights.**

**From Quinn: oh good. seriously though. you ok? **

**To Quinn: could I be anything else after our date?**

**From Quinn: you could be ecstatic. just saying.**

**To Quinn: you have no idea. I wish I could show you. ;)**

I blush at my response even though Quinn isn't here to see. This is playful, right? I'm certainly not trying to initiate anything. But alas, she would never pass up an opportunity to tease me.

**From Quinn: ooh. that's a little forward for a first date, Rachel Berry.**

Her use of my full name just makes me blush deeper.

**To Quinn: you're making me blush.**

**From Quinn: cute ;p good night, Rae.**

**To Quinn: good night, Quinn.**

I sigh contently to myself. I'm only a block away from my place now, and I'm so happy because this wind is getting chilly. Like, biting my skin and leaving me red all over chilly.

* * *

I've locked my door, brushed my teeth and stripped to change into a pair of underwear that is less flirtatious. But as I discard the cute matching bra and panties that I wore on my date, I wonder to myself where I thought the night might end. Was I honestly expecting sex? I can't say that I remember. Maybe I picked those out just in case. Or was I going to initiate it?

All I know is that now, as I'm crawling underneath my heavy blankets nearly naked, all I can think about is Quinn. Which may be expected, the date was perfect. But when I close my eyes, hers are there, on the insides of my eyelids. They're smoldering and dark, swirling with lust. They're drawing me into my own head space, a place where Quinn is beside me in this bed.

I shift and roll over, hopefully away from the building ache between my thighs. It doesn't work. Now it's her whole face. Her shimmering eyes set perfectly above her nose with the slightest, cutest crook in it, centered between defined cheekbones, leading down to her smirking mouth and a sleek chin and jaw. Oh god. Her mouth.

My hand trails languidly down my rib cage as I picture those plump, pink lips. The way her smiles tug on them. The way they pout when she's concentrating. The way they part when she's beneath me, sucking in breath for dear life. The small sounds of appreciation and pleasure that come through them when I'm with her.

My fingers become wet with my arousal as the rest of Quinn's luscious body plays behind my closed eyes. Her slender neck and her prominent collar bone; so nice to nibble on. Her perfect pallid breasts with nipples the soft shade of a pink rose, straining for attention. I'm always so eager to oblige. The smooth skin stretched taut over her abdomen and the slight dip before her hipbones. That ass. God, there aren't words for it. It has absolutely no business being a part of her body, but it is. And it's _so _delectable. Sometimes, while I'm lying in bed afterward, convincing myself that I don't want more, I simply _look_. I just stare as she bends to retrieve her clothes from wherever. Her legs flexing and her ass raising up like some invitation to a greater self. Her body is unbelievable to me. Just one image and my fingers are pumping away into myself, late at night, all alone.

And as I realize that I miss sex with Quinn - not cumming, or making her cum - just being so desperately tangled up in her; I fall apart. _Hard_.

After I extract my wet fingers, I roll over onto my side, panting to regain my breath. I've never cum that hard by myself before. It's exhilarating in a terrifying way. But I feel deliciously weak now, and my brain can't function passed this:

If anyone could see the look in Quinn's eyes when she's on; or the way her body writhes under my touch; or just the way her breathy moans caress my ear they would understand. Everything I've ever been afraid of is constantly at the tip of my fingers, and her body simply pulls them all in so _tight _and swallows. They disappear into the beautifully arched shell of her body every time she invites me inside. Sometimes I would wonder without any real feeling of consequence what would happen to her if I left everything to her. Would it tear her apart from the inside? Might she find it easier to leave the confinements of my arrangement someday? Will she use it all against me?

But right now, after our first _date_… I miss _trusting _her completely in that way. In that mind-numbing way that her sex is swollen and glistening for _me _and everything is perfect. And nothing hurts.

* * *

When I wake in the morning, my thighs are sticky with last night's epiphany. I smile broadly, sleepily. As I rub the sleep from my eyes, I get out of bed and make my way to the bathroom. I need a long shower, hot water pulsing into my back.

* * *

Now I need breakfast.

* * *

_This_ is a place with _great _coffee. I don't always come here because it kinda just smells like breakfast, and there is a nice selection at my favorite coffee place a block away from school. But I've got time this morning, to sit and order and enjoy big city diner food. The place is bustling already, and it's a little difficult to scan for an empty table through all of these bodies. But I do spot… well, it isn't empty. None of them are empty. But this one might do. If I can manage to survive.

"Good morning, Santana." I say brightly as I slide into the seat across from her, sans invitation.

Without even lifting her head from her menu she replies, "Ay dios mio, Berry. Are you stalking me, too?"

"That's so nice that you know me just by the sound of my voice." I figure playing with her a little is the best way to steer clear of any left over tension from last night.

"It's the only one that annoys me _so goddamn _much." She looks up to smile sweetly at me before returning. "So what are you doing here?"

"I plan to eat breakfast." I say in an obvious tone.

"Yeah." She replies shortly.

We sit in silence for a few long minutes until a waitress comes to our table. "What'll you have?" She asks, smacking her gum in her mouth. It's quite disgusting.

"I wants the bacon and cheddar omelet and some o.j."

"And you?"

"Um…" Santana tosses me the menu quickly and stares at me, a bored expression on her face. In fact, it's the same one our waitress is sporting right now. "Um, I'll have the cranberry sage chutney, please."

The waitress just walks away. I don't even know if she wrote our orders down. She's new. If she smacks her gum into my food I'm going to… I'm… I'm going to ask Santana to beat her up. "Still a vegan?"

"Yes."

"Gross." I sigh, but allow us to remain in silence. It takes a while for our food to come out (which looks gum and spit free) but we haven't spoken at all. Maybe this is the best way to get on Santana's good side. By being silent.

After the waitress dully tells us to let her know if we need anything and we begin setting out our silverware, my mind drifts back to last night. To Brittany. I don't notice I'm staring at Santana until she catches me and does a double-take, just to be sure. She sighs deeply and leans back in her seat. "_Joder_, Berry. I know you wanna ask, so just… _ask_."

"What happened?" I ask quietly.

I see her contemplate playing coy and sarcastic before resigning to rest her face against her raised palm, elbow on the table. "It didn't work out." I nod, but crease my brows, encouraging her to expound. "We moved out here together with Quinn. And ah, pretty soon after that, I fucked up. _Bad_."

"What?" I ask gently.

"I fucked some chick." She sighs and picks up her fork, poking at her omelet. "We said we'd work through it, but then Britt remembered that she liked dick. In our bed."

I wince. This is a lot worse than I was imagining last night; two lovers ripped apart by individual, conflicting fates. Some of that old Rachel Berry romanticism is seeping through my cracks. "I'm _so _sorry."

She shrugs. "It was two years ago. I fucked it up first." And then she takes her first bite, so I do the same.

Santana doesn't look at me or speak throughout breakfast (which consisted of zero visits from our waitress, 'in case we needed anything') and I don't push her. I remember how fiercely she loved Brittany. Two years or ten, rehashing it will always hurt at least a little. As she finishes her orange juice her eyes go wide and she sets down her glass. "I forgot to ask how the date was." She says, surprisingly excited.

"Oh." I say dumbly. Are we at this point yet? Where we ask each other how our dates go? Especially the date I had with her best friend? No. We couldn't possibly. She threatened to kill me last night! But her expression is so expectant, and I _do _suppose I owe her something for opening up about Brittany. "Um, it was… perfect." I say contently, mentally skimming over all of the details.

"Yeah, she's pretty good, huh?"

"What does that mean?" I ask, genuinely confused.

"Relax, Berry." She laughs. "I just mean that… I know how she gets when she really likes something. It's never really been a _girl _before. You know, she does nice things for me and Beth, but not _girls_." I smile to myself and blush. "But you know, she deserves to be like, _courted _or whatever. Like, _wooed _and shit."

I break from my reverie and nod emphatically. "Of course! I'm planning on taking her out next time. I really wanna do something special for her, you know? Like, something she'll remember." I finish quietly, self consciously. "You know?"

"Yeah. I do." She smiles at me briefly and calls for the check.

* * *

Santana walks with me to school. Apparently she has absolutely nothing to do until ten tonight, when she starts her shift tending bar downtown. I've learned a fair amount about her on the walk over and I have to say, I'm impressed. She has a partial scholarship to NYU and works for any other expenses; books, rent, et cetera. She's studying law and hopes to be accepted into Columbia after she graduates NYU in two years.

"I can definitely see you as a lawyer. You'll kick ass."

"I know." She says smugly and we share a laugh. But it's cut short when Santana says, "Lady Lips. I totes forgot you existed."

I see Kurt approaching us with mild terror morphing into familiarity on his face. "That just makes it so _special _that you remembered my name." He says sarcastically, but goes for a hug which Santana returns begrudgingly.

After just a second she pulls back and ruffles his hair. "All right, that's enough." He scowls at her. "Calm down, Porcelain. I have a compact mirror and a comb." She says faux conspiratorially. But Kurt readily accepts. Returning her things to her bag she says," All right, ladies. I'ma gets goin'. It was… _ok _seeing you both. Now on to the good part of my day."

Kurt and I giggle and wave her off. "Wow. Sucking up to the bestie?"

I roll my eyes at him playfully. "_No_. We had a nice talk last night and then I ran into her at that diner." I shrug.

"The one on seventy-sixth?"

"Yup."

Kurt hooks his arm into the crook of my elbow and we begin walking to our shared Tuesday class. "_So_…" I wave my arm for him to continue. "How was your date?" He asks excitedly, yet frustrated at my playing coy.

"_Oh_." I say jokingly. "It was really great."

"Rachel." He looks at me pointedly from the side.

"Quinn's kinda perfect." I scrunch up my nose at the foreign feel of saying something like aloud.

"Really?" He asks, not surprised at all.

"Yes. She brought me to a little French vegan place, and we had great food and great wine. And then she wanted to walk to this fro-yo place that I didn't even know about, but it had vegan selections as well." Kurt hums at me in a way that mean, 'Out with it.' "And then she kissed me." We both squeal like teenaged girls. "And then we kissed again, and again. And _then_… we kissed good night."

He smiles brightly at me, obviously proud, and that makes me feel really good. Suddenly his smile falters though and he hesitantly asks, "Did you…"

"Oh, no. No, we didn't."

"How do you feel about that?" His gaze is imploring.

I suck in a long breath and exhale slowly. How do I feel about not sleeping with Quinn last night? How do I feel about that setting the tone for the blooming stages of our courtship? "I feel good." A large smile tugs at my lips and Kurt literally jumps (just once) in excitement. I giggle at him and we walk into the lecture hall.

* * *

**AN2: Obviously, this was partly my not so secret love letter to Dianna Agron, aesthetically speaking. I could go on. And on and on. I hope you liked it! Let me know! Please forgive my West Coast interpretation of New York. See you guys again soon. (:**


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: Sorry for the wait. I don't get a lot of time on the weekends, but I'll try harder to kick my as into gear during the week. You guys have been SO awesome and consistent. I love you all. Seriously. **

**Also, I don't want to disappoint anyone, but I don't think I'm going to have Brittany in this at all. I'm really not confident in my ability to write her. But I do love her character, and I love, love, love Brittana. They're the most adorable thing since babies.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Nine: So Real**

It's Friday before I'm able to kiss her again; before I smell her skin again. It's been four days since I last saw her. We've been texting throughout each day, but I need something tangible to soothe my fears; they seem to grow when she's not around. But her lips are tangible. Her warm body in my lap is tangible. Her breath against my neck is _here_. The way she bunched up her skirt to her upper thigh in order to straddle both of mine is _so real_.

We had plans for lunch, but Quinn called me an hour ago to inform me that she would need to work over lunch. I'm supposing that within just a few months of trying to plan things into Quinn's schedule will officially clue me in as to how busy a book editor might be. Anyway, when she called earlier I may or may not have whined a bit. Don't judge. I hadn't felt her in four days. It's been longer since we last had sex. Two years of consistent orgasms can spoil a girl. But alas, this is part of the new plan.

Or it was until I walked into Quinn's office. _Then _it seemed like the new plan might involve accosting my mouth with hers and pushing me to sit on the plush sofa in the corner. I thought her exclamation of, 'I need to kiss you,' over the phone was sweet, and a little seductive. I never imagined that she would climb on top of me and start running those _dexterous _fingers through my hair. I never got the inclination that she would nip at my neck and roll her hips mercilessly into mine. And as her lips find mine again and she moves her hands from my hips to my breasts, mild hysteria sets in; the sudden realization that I might be ruining her cushions not the least of my worries.

I'm unsure if I should stop this. I'm unsure that I'll be able to after another second. With my heart rate already escalated and my breathing coming in short bursts, I know I'm headed straight for another panic attack. Is it even ok to have a panic attack in this situation? Where I'm engaging in sexual activities with _Quinn_? Just as that anxiety hits me, she pulls away to lean her forehead against mine. I take long, deep breaths to recover myself… or prepare.

I open my eyes to the sound a breathy giggle that really, I can feel more than I can hear. Quinn's eyes are still closed, her long lashes fluttering against her cheeks. There's a smile tugging at her perfectly pink lips. "Sorry." She breathes out around a wicked smirk.

I watch her recover in amusement and whisper, "It's ok," before placing a lingering kiss on her mouth. This time when we pull away, her eyes are open; beautiful hazel shining in the sun coming through the window, sparkling with lust, boring into mine. "Are you ok?" I ask breathlessly just to fill the silence.

She nods silently as another smile covers her mouth while leaning her head into the crook of my neck. "Yes." She kisses my special spot behind my ear shortly and I wrap my arms around her waist. "But I think we need to stop… or I won't be able to." She pulls back to look into my eyes again, and I think that if she asks me anything at all with that look I will always just say, 'Ok,' with a happy smile on my face. I stretch my neck slightly to kiss her again because… how could I not? I feel her body lean into me again, but her thighs are tense from holding her center safely away from mine. As I move my hands from her waist to massage her thighs Quinn abruptly pulls back and simply hugs me. "Rachel…"

"I know." Wow. What happened to my nerves? I guess hormones win every time? "But, um… I think… that I need you to, um…"

"Oh! Sorry." She catches on and slides off of my body. She smooths down her skirt and ducks her head down shyly, a light blush coloring her cheeks. She bites her lip and waves her hand around the room without looking up. "This is my office," she giggles out.

"Ah, yes." I say sarcastically. "Very nice, Miss Fabray." She nods along and we laugh as she wipes away at her smudged lipstick. That might be my favorite. At least top five. The way her lipstick smears, the way it marks me. It's always been such a turn on for me. Ok, I need to settle my brain. Steer it away from _sex_. I cross my legs and ask, "So… this is a working lunch then, is it?"

It makes her laugh again as she sits in her important editor's chair behind her important editor's desk. It's very sexy. "I'll admit I got a bit distracted." She glares playfully at me and I scoff.

"_You _are the one that attacked _me_." I accuse indignantly.

"'_Attacked_.' As if you didn't enjoy it." She smirks smugly at me.

I lean my head against my raised fist and make an obnoxious humming noise, and Quinn. Quinn just smiles so prettily at me. Such a simple thing I've seen her do so often, and it still takes my breath away. "Have dinner with me tonight." I whisper, staring directly into her eyes.

She sighs heavily. "I can't." She picks up a pen and starts fiddling with it between her fingers. "It's Halloween."

I make a confused face to match my thoughts. "Are you going trick or treating?" I ask with a slight giggle.

"No." She looks at me pointedly. "But Beth is." Realization dawns on me in a way that I'm certain is embarrassing. Beth is five years old. Of course she's going trick or treating. I'm not allowed to steal her mother away on Halloween.

My mind drifts off to the next opening in my schedule, which is tomorrow night. I'm about to insist on dinner Saturday night when Quinn speaks up again. "I was actually, um… I was wondering if you might like to come?" She says somewhat hesitantly, but with a light in her eyes all the same. "With us. Tonight." She clarifies because I'm slightly dumbfounded. "With me a-and Beth." Her brow furrows and I realize that I've been silent much too long.

"Yes." Oops. "I-I mean, no." Shit. She's raised her brow at me and pursed her lips. I take a deep breath and rise up off the sofa to begin walking over to Quinn. When I reach her a small smile is playing with both of us and she rolls her chair back to give me room to sit on the edge of her desk. I take her hand in mine, and she begins rubbing small circles on it with her thumb. I watch the movement for a moment, wondering if she should be the one comforting me right now. But I steel myself and look into her patient eyes. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Yes." She nods once firmly; resolutely.

"How?" I ask quietly.

She smiles softly at me. "Because it's Halloween, Rae. It'll be fun." I look down to the floor, still not convinced. "Look, I don't think we should mack in front of her or anything."

I huff out a laugh and look at her. "You've been hanging out with Santana-"

"I know." She cuts me off. She raises her hand to cup my chin and wipe at my own smudged lipstick. "I don't want you do anything you're not ready for." I nod dumbly. "So, if you don't think that now is a good time to spend time with my daughter," she emphasizes that finer point, "then just say 'no.'" She moves her hand to caress my cheek and smiles reassuringly at me. "Ok?"

It doesn't take any time at all to make the decision. She's so earnest and caring. It's almost like she loves me. And I'm so scared that I might let her down; that I might let myself down. But as my lips touch her warm palm, all I can say is, "I wanna go."

Quinn has to bite her lip to contain her smile, but even that doesn't kill it. I feel so special to have evoked that reaction. "Really?"

"Yeah." She stands up and moves between my legs to kiss me firmly; resolutely.

* * *

I am not having a panic attack. I am not having a panic attack. I am not having a panic attack… anymore. I was having one earlier. But now that I'm knocking on Quinn's apartment door, I'm not. Definitely not. God, I should have brought a camera and saved this for my acting final. At least I don't _appear _to be having a panic attack. That's the important thing. I think. Ok, _for now_. Maybe I can talk to Quinn about it later, but I have to be calm around her kid. You're not _supposed _to have panic attacks when meeting children. There's a small voice telling me that it's more than that, but it's drowned out by a swinging door and a small blonde person, clad only in boy's Batman underwear.

"Hello, _Berry_." Beth says my name with such disdain. Oh god, I've already failed. I thought she wanted to have ice cream with me? And watch cartoons? Oh god, I am _not _having a panic attack. I'm about to greet her with my best show face when she bursts into a fit of giggles and looks off to the side. "Like that?" She manages out. My brow furrows in confusion and slight concern for Beth's mental health. Can five year olds be schizophrenic?

"Just like that, dolce." I hear a familiar voice confirm before I see a tan hand high five the little girl. "You are now officially the HBIC." Santana nods for me to enter the apartment in lieu of a greeting before disappearing into the kitchen.

"What are you teaching my kid?" Quinn comes rushing around the corner into the living room. She smiles at me brightly, but it vanishes when she gets on her knees to be eye level with Beth. "What did Mommy say about answering the door?"

"But Tana was right there, and-"

"What did Mommy say?" Quinn reiterates.

"You said not ta." Beth sighs, defeated.

"That's right." Quinn says firmly but plants a sweet kiss in her daughter's wild, blonde hair. "Now go get dressed." She stands and pats Beth's little bottom lovingly to send the girl off to her bedroom. Quinn widens her eyes comically and sighs as she walks over to me with a big smile on her face. "Hey."

"Hey." I smile back. She kisses me on the mouth, and I revel in the feel of her lips rubbing against mine momentarily. "Is it weird that seeing you be a mom is kinda hot?" I ask hesitantly.

She blushes a deep red and kisses me again before whispering, "A little bit," and kissing away any retort. We both laugh into the kiss, but I manage out a, 'Brat,' to which she bites my bottom lip and tugs gently. I let out a moan that wakes us both up and she places one last kiss on my lips before pulling away so we can calm ourselves down.

"So, is Beth Captain Underpants for Halloween? 'Cause she can use my scarf as a cape."

"Aw," Quinn coos sarcastically. "No. She's gonna be fun-sized Katniss."

"Gotchya."

She takes my hand and leads us to the kitchen where Santana is drinking a water and leisurely playing with her phone, feet up on the table. I remain quiet as Quinn stares her down. Finally, the Latina lifts her gaze to mine, smirks, and then shifts her eyes to Quinn and raises her brows. "Why'd Beth open the door naked?"

"She wasn't naked." Santana replies nonchalantly. "And you know," she shrugs and returns to her phone. "Kids will be kids or whatever the fuck." She sighs out.

"If she's ever kidnapped, I'm killing you." Santana just nods like this is a common threat. Their friendship has always baffled me. They're there for each other though; they can have whatever dynamic works for them. "Get your shoes off my dinner table."

Santana scoffs. "These are brand new Stella McCartney, Q. I don't want your floor on my faux python pumps."

Quinn walks passed her to the refrigerator and knocks her feet off the table. "You're gonna wear them to work. My floor is fucking _immaculate_ compared to that bar." Santana tilts her head in acceptance of Quinn's argument. "Rae." I look over just as she tosses me a water bottle.

"Thanks." I say somewhat breathlessly. I tossed Quinn a water bottle last week. After we fucked. And that memory coupled with this afternoon's activities and the lip-tugging, my eyes glaze over. I feel my mouth go dry and I vaguely register the concern coloring Quinn's features, but all I can think is that her brows furrow almost the same way when she's concentrating on getting me off.

"What the fuck, Berry?" Santana interrupts my train of thought. I smile at them both before twisting off the bottle cap and taking a long gulp. "Hey Q, you know what face she's making?"

"I think so." Quinn replies huskily. Both Santana and I look at her and she has the sexiest smirk playing on her lips, eyes boring into mine.

"Ugh, gross." Santana gets up from her chair and moves toward the hallway. "B! Come save me! Please!" She yells dramatically.

"Sorry." I mumble.

"Don't be. She's just an ass." Quinn says as she glides over to me squeeze my hand. She lets go when Beth runs into the kitchen, fully clothed with Santana hot on her heels carrying a plastic bow.

"Mom!" She exclaims.

"Beth!" I can't help a small giggle from escaping my throat.

"Look! I look awesome."

"So humble." Quinn says airily as she ruffles Beth's hair.

"Q, it's in a braid. Leave it alone."

"Yeah, Mom."

"Sorry, baby." Quinn says, effectively chastised.

"Do you like it, Rachel?" Beth's big green eyes turn up to me.

"You look great, Beth."

"Never take fashion advice from Berry, miel."

"Santana…" Quinn sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. I just laugh a little.

"I think you look good, Rachel." Beth says happily and Santana rolls her eyes. I mumble out a 'thank you.'

"All right, you little traitor. Tana's gotta go." She and Beth do this complicated hand shake that lasts at least twenty seconds before Santana leans down to kiss Beth on the top of her head. "Have fun tonight." She says before kissing Quinn on the cheek. She must catch the way my jaw tightens because the last thing she says before she leaves is, "Relax, Rae." And with a pointed look. "Don't screw up."

* * *

So this is going ok. Just fine, actually. Great, even? Yeah. Fantastic. Trick or treating with Quinn and Beth is fun. We've been down a few blocks now, and Beth's pillowcase is getting full. Banter has been flowing and hands are being held. Kisses are being stolen and this is _easy_. And I'm so grateful to be here; to be let into this part of Quinn's life; to have _earned _it, just by asking for it.

Beth is exceptionally smart and _hilarious_. I shouldn't have expected anything less. Her mother _is _Quinn, after all. I haven't allowed myself to see Quinn in this light in a long time. She's so relaxed, and just completely herself. She's talking more than I am which is lovely. I'm learning a lot; comparing and contrasting to the Quinn I knew in high school. But as graceful and mature as she was after Beth, not a whole lot has changed. It leaves with a comfortable sense of familiarity. The only thing that I would change about tonight is my height. I'm much too short for Quinn to rest her head on my shoulder. I should get some crazy high heels. Yes. It's a plan.

Quinn's soft voice breaks me out of my head space. "She really likes you." She nudges me with her shoulder. "She only talks this much to Tana and me."

I smile at Beth's back, up a few steps in front of us, hardly containing her excitement even after two hours. "I really like her, too." I reply honestly. "This is really nice. Just walking with you."

"Yeah." She sighs contently as if she's known this would be nice all along. And I suppose she has. I'm just late to the party. "Go get 'em, baby!" Quinn yells ahead to Beth as the little girl races up the pathway of another house, our cue to make out for a hot second.

But we're cut short this time when Beth comes jogging up to us and starts tugging on her mother's sleeve. "Mom." She drawls out in a whine.

We pull away from each other quickly, but Beth doesn't seem to care right now. She has this adorably pained expression on her face. "What is it, baby?" Quinn asks, concerned.

"She gave me an apple." Beth whines. Quinn and I both try not to laugh, but we fail miserably. "Can we go home now?"

"Yes." Quinn picks Beth up and swings her onto her hip and smiles at me.

"Hey Beth, can I carry your candy for you?" I ask. She turns her little blonde head toward me and looks at me skeptically, an expression I've seen on Quinn's face more than a few times. It's utterly striking. "Please?" She narrows her eyes at me, but then just smiles and thrusts her bag into my hands before burying her face in Quinn's neck.

* * *

"Please, please, please." I hear Beth beg from the other room. Quinn's been trying to put her down for ten minutes now. Throughout the wash cloth and the pajamas, she's been asking for one more piece of candy. I sneaked her two on the walk home, but apparently a Butterfinger is calling her name.

"Not tonight, baby cakes." I hear Quinn say yet again. "But tomorrow's Saturday, and you can have a bunch of candy then, ok?" She's a brave woman, offering a sugar high to a five year old on a silver platter.

I hear Beth tiredly murmur an, 'Ok,' before the door closes and Quinn strides into the living room to sit on the couch with me. She sits on the other side of the three-seat sofa, opposite me. "What are you doing _all _the way over there?" I reach out my arm and flop it down onto the cushion dramatically.

She reaches out for my hand and smiles softly at me. "Do you wanna talk?" She prompts gently.

"Ok." I say quietly. "But you're gonna have to come a little closer." She starts crawling over to me on her knees before turning around to lean into my open arm. She takes my hand again and starts playing with my fingers. "I'm having fun." She nods twice and lifts my palm to kiss it before lowing it back into her lap, proceeding to play with my fingers. "Thank you."

"For what?" She asks, genuinely confused.

"For inviting me." I rest my chin on her shoulder and press my lips to her skin. "It's really nice to see you like this again. With Beth, at home, you know? I didn't really let myself miss is before, but now…"

She shifts in my arm just enough so that she can look me in the eye. There is a gentle furrow in her brow. "Why wouldn't you let yourself miss it?"

I sigh deeply. "Because." She quirks that brow. "I just… I wasn't in the right place, you know? I couldn't let myself fall for all of your… _everything_… before I figured mine out."

"And now?"

"Now… I'm ready to grow up." We simply stare at each other for whole minutes before a thought finally crosses my mind. "Why would you wait for me?" I ask quietly, so much more vulnerable than I've sounded in a long while.

"Because I've already fallen for all of your everything." She replies resolutely.

I am baffled. How could this be? Was I paying so little attention these last two years that I missed this completely? How could anybody fall for the person I've been to Quinn? _Especially _Quinn. I've been selfish. I needed a swift kick to the ass to even have _coffee _with this woman, and she's… _fallen _for me? As in past-tense, _fallen_? Like, it's been this way for god knows how long, and I'm just now figuring it out. But I am, aren't I? Figuring it out? Isn't that the point? Or maybe the point is that I'm finally figuring out that I want to figure the rest of it _with Quinn_. "You amaze me." I say breathlessly.

She smirks smugly at me and leans in for a kiss before I can call her out on it. I'll allow it.

We kiss for several more minutes, rediscovering every crevice in each other's mouths under this new light. It's beautiful, and I can feel every single swipe of her tongue and teeth in my abdomen and in my chest. The need for oxygen overcomes the urgency of the kiss, though, and we part. "Stay." I lean in to capture her lips in agreement and my hands begin to wander. I rub gentle patterns on her back with my fingertips before bringing one hand down to her waist. A moan escapes her mouth only to be swallowed by mine. I move my rebellious hand to rest on her ass. Quinn starts shaking her head and pulls away again. "No." She says huskily. "Not tonight."

"Why not?" I manage to force out of my lusted over brain.

"We need to… _not _for a while."

"Oh."

"Yeah." She moves to sit next to me, staring at the blank television in front of us. I just stare at her profile, trying to catch my breath. "We need to… separate."

"Like animals?" I ask playfully, which gains a laugh from her.

"No, like… separate this new thing from the old thing."

"Right." I saw this coming. It shouldn't be such a shock. Maybe if Quinn hadn't been straddling and/or sucking my face off throughout the day it would be an easier pill to swallow. "Right." I repeat, more for my own sake. Quinn turns to look at me imploringly, but I can tell she's slightly amused by my perplexed state. Apparently I'm not doing a very good job hiding it. "Sorry. I just, um… When do you think it'll be ok to incorporate?" She laughs at my wording, and probably a little at how desperate I sound. "Sorry. I-"

She cuts me off with her lips. This is definitely my favorite thing, kissing Quinn like this. Languidly, like we have all the time in the world to just make out like teenagers. It's really awesome. She pulls away. "Don't be sorry."

"Ok."

"Ok." And then she lays her body down and tugs me down behind her by my hand. "Just stay." She says sleepily.

"Ok." I nuzzle my nose into her hair and kiss her neck. The last thought I have before I fall asleep is, 'What was I so afraid of?'

* * *

**AN2: All right, there it is. I really hope you enjoyed it. Please let me know either way, as long as it's constructive. Next chapter, Beth finds them asleep on the couch. Dun-dun-dun! Just kidding, but seriously. Have a grand night/day!**


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: So first and foremost, and GIANT thank you to lectora13 for not only helpfully pointing out my Spanish mistakes, but also giving me great suggestions that I'll definitely be using in the future. Which brings me to the next order of business, thank you ALL for the alerts and all of your wonderful reviews. They feed my soul. All right, here we go!**

* * *

**Chapter Ten: Falling**

"Mommy." It's a soft voice. It's very near my ear, warm air moving a tendril of hair to tickle my nose. "Mommy." It's becoming urgent, but I just can't figure out what's going on. I yell at my brain to open my eyes, but when sunlight pierces the retinas they instinctively close again. "Mom." It's not a considerate whisper anymore, it's insistent. More hair tickles underneath my nose as something starts shaking against my body. I clench my eyes shut in momentary fear before there is low, raspy humming sound from in front of me. Then it hits me; Quinn. I'm at Quinn's.

"What is it, baby?" Comes her tired voice.

"Rachel's here." Beth says simply.

"Oh." Quinn's just remembered what's going on as well, by the sound of it and the silent pause. I don't dare open my eyes. It's best to just pretend I'm still sleeping so Quinn can handle this. I think. "I know, baby. We were just so tired last night."

"Me, too." I feel Quinn's body shift to what I presume is an upright position. "Will you brush my hair?"

"Yeah, come here." There's a slapping sound and then more shifts. I chance a peek at the pair. Beth standing between Quinn's legs, who's meticulously running the fine-toothed comb through her daughter's golden hair. I remember when Beth was barely a year old. Her hair was almost white then. Quinn confided in me, just once, that she was so nervous the little girl's hair would darken with time. And I had assured her, just once, that it would look like mine if it did, in fact, turn out like Noah's. That seemed to pacify her.

I wonder now if she felt the looming future in that moment. Each of its hands clutching at one of ours, respectively. Dragging us kicking, or screaming, or giggling or cumming along the way. I hadn't felt it then. But now that comment, even just about her child's hair, seems to have had some purpose; like I had some kind of intent. And maybe I did. It's much too early in the morning to tell.

"Alright, girly. Wanna go get dressed? I'll make some pancakes."

"Ok!" Beth replies excitedly. I'd closed my eyes to picture the little sprite she once was, just like her mother's silhouette. "Sorry." She whispers, but in that child-like way where you're seemingly unaware of your own volume.

"It's ok." Quinn whispers back in the same tone. I feel the couch shift again and then there is a soft warmth against my bare shoulder. My shirt must have slipped down in my sleep. I try to contain my smile in favor of keeping up the ruse of my sleeping state. Another press of lips against my skin, then her gentle voice, laced with humor. "I know you're awake." Quinn sing-songs.

I do huff out a laugh at that, then quickly try to suppress my mouth into a frown and clench my eyes shut comically tight. Quinn laughs at me and runs her hand through my hair, pressing more kisses to any skin that might be bare. I finally rouse and glare at her playfully. "How did you know?"

"I've watched you pretend to sleep before, Rae." She says as if this is the most obvious thing in the world. I furrow my brows at her and she huffs out another laugh. "It's like your polite way of asking me to leave your place." She says lightly with a smile on her face.

"Quinn." I sit up so that we're eye level. I need to say something. I always feel the need _say something _when one of us references our very recent past. "I'm sorry."

"That's not why I said it. I'm just playing with you a little." She says reassuringly and runs her fingers lightly over my abdomen. I start giggling immediately and try to smack her hands away. The tickling gets me onto my back and she continues until she's able to hover over me before stopping and staring directly into my eyes. There's that glimmer again. The one that's been there in her eyes for the last week. My heart flutters at the acceptance that I'm partly responsible for it. "This is all I want from you."

I exhale a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. My back relaxes against the cushions and she follows my body down, laying on top of me and finally kissing my lips. She slides hers across mine sensuously for a moment before I grow impatient and run my tongue along her bottom lip. I am granted immediate access. I slip my tongue underneath hers and tangle them together, all the while bringing the wicked mess across our teeth and into my own mouth. Once her tongue is in, I suck gently at it. She moans and I feel all of my fears and emotions and insecurities flood out of me. Her fingers tangle up into my wild hair and I grasp her hips and pull her into me. I must be some kind of masochist, doing these things after our talk last night. We're separating. Not right now. Right now, all I want is to see how close I can get Quinn before we melt into each other.

"Go to your room!" Quinn and I jerk away from each other at the sound of Beth's tiny 'authoritative' voice.

Quinn looks like she might apologize for a moment, but then she snaps her mouth shut and raises her brow. "Got to my room?" She repeats incredulously.

"Yeah!" Beth exclaims. "Or…" She adopts a look of confusion. "Or… something like that." She glances around the room, maybe searching for what she meant to say. "Tana said… 'go to your room.'" She nods emphatically in agreement with herself.

"_Get _a room?" I supply helpfully.

"Yeah!" Beth actually snaps her fingers. It lights her whole face up and I can't even be embarrassed anymore. I can't speak for Quinn, though. She gives me this look… it just turns me on. It could be our previous activities, it could be our agreement to abstain. Whatever which way it is, Quinn reprimanding anyone (apparently, including me) is really sexy. I shrug helplessly at her, which emits a smile and a shake of her head.

"I like your outfit Beth." I say.

She smiles broadly at me and says, "Thanks!" But then her face turns sour and she turns her gaze to her mother. "I can't find my tiara, Mommy."

"Oh no." Quinn placates her daughter and rises from the couch to look for said tiara.

"I don't know if you need a tiara. You already look _so _amazing." I supply. I catch Quinn's approving smile. I could get good at this thing.

"No, I need the tiara. It's really important." Beth states matter of factually.

I open my mouth and nod slowly as to portray realization that isn't really there. Beth's in these adorable little black skinny jeans and a Batman shirt. It's one of the plain black ones with only the logo in the center of it. She's also wearing what looks like a dark grey sheet tied around her neck as a make-shift cape.

Quinn appears from behind the chair in the opposite corner of the room, tiara in hand. Beth squeals and grabs it from her mother, emitting a high-pitched 'thanks!' Quinn then watches her daughter place the plastic crown atop her head happily before addressing me. "She can't be _Princess _Batman without the tiara." She ruffles Beth's hair a little. "Isn't that right, baby?"

"Yup." The little girl pops the 'p' and looks to me with an expectant look that reminds of looking into a mirror. I falter momentarily but force myself to recover, hopefully before suspicions set in. But I can't make words come out of my mouth just yet. So I just nod and make sure to throw in some wide-with-amusement eyes. But nothing gets passed Quinn. Nothing ever did.

"Honey, you wanna watch some cartoons while Rae helps me with pancakes?" She's already walking toward the television. Beth jumps onto the couch next to me and settles in. Quinn nods toward the kitchen with a pleasant look on her face. I pat Beth on the knee once before following Quinn out of the room.

When I enter, Quinn is pulling out some mix and setting it next to a large mixing bowl. Really, much too large for two people to own. I make my over to her and place a hand on her hip. She turns around and looks down into my eyes with an expression I can't read. It might be fear, but I haven't seen it on her since she found out she was pregnant. So I do the only thing I can think of and pull her in so the bottom curve of her breasts are touching the top of mine. "What is it?" I ask quietly, thought I'm fairly certain I already know.

"She reminds me of you sometimes." I hold my breath and furrow my brow in faux confusion. "You saw The Face." I let it out shakily and she presses further into me. "I honestly don't know where she got it from. And some of her little ticks… it's like she remembers you, or something." I take her hand in mine in a gesture to let her know that I'm still listening; I'm still _here_. "Santana actually pointed it out." Quinn says with a huff of a laugh, probably at the memory. "She said, 'Q, you're kid's like Berry. I think that buys me a dollar for the swear jar.'" She laughs more openly, as do I.

"Sounds like a fair trade, considering."

"Yeah, maybe." She settles her shaking body against mine again. "It kinda hurts sometimes. But it always makes me really happy."

I lean up to kiss her lips firmly. Sure, this information shakes me up a little bit and there's something lodged in my throat. But I need this. _We _need this honesty. And after I rifle through all of the cowardice fear, I find warmth.

* * *

_Quinn's POV_

"How come Rachel didn't stay?" Beth asks from the couch, taking a break from her pancakes.

"She had an audition. Also, she doesn't really like pancakes." I answer from my chair.

"Oh." Beth goes back to her pancakes, but chews quickly as her face lights up with another idea. "She could have cereal next time." She suggests.

Next time. This morning wasn't even supposed to be a 'this time.' Rachel agreed to trick or treating, not staying the night only to be found by my daughter. Twice. My cheeks still feel hot from when Beth walked in on us kissing. Oh, that kiss. How can Rae do that to me when I've just put the brakes on sex? It isn't fair. What was I thinking? Oh, right. New beginnings, or something like that. Ok. Now, Beth. "She doesn't like cereal either, sweetie."

"What?" She scrunches up her nose in confusion, which then turns to disgust when she muses, "Or ice cream?" I giggle at her. "I guess she's ok, but how could you _kiss _someone like that?"

"Beth." I try to chastise her judgment around a giggle. It doesn't work. She turns that Fabray brow on me which only makes me laugh harder. After I settle down some, I try again. "Rachel's vegan. That means she doesn't eat anything that's made from animals. And it actually makes her kisses quite good." Not really, but it makes her cum taste interesting, in the best possible way.

"Ew-wa!" Beth exclaims around a mouthful of pancakes. I simply laugh a little bit more and turn back to the Justice League. It's Saturday morning. That means pancakes and Justice League with Beth. But the screen pauses and I look over to her who has finished her breakfast and is staring intently at me. She cocks her head in curiosity before asking, "When did you know?"

"Know what, baby?"

"That you like girls." She states. I was wondering when this would happen. A few of the kids at her kindergarten have single parents, but it's so tiny, I don't think any of them have gay parents. I was able to put it off until now since I've always been in this one-sided thing with Rachel. But Beth has seen us kiss. Something girls do with _boys _in her movies.

I take a deep breath before I reply. "I knew for sure just before I had you."

"For sure?"

"Yes. I was very young then, and I was very confused."

"How come?"

"Well," I pause, thinking of the best way to say this. I can't tell my five year old that the grandfather she's never met is a religious, repressive asshole. That wouldn't be good. I settle for, "My dad wouldn't have like it."

"Why?" She suddenly sounds defensive, and I can't help but feel a little proud at her blind loyalty.

"Some people just don't like it, honey." I say gently.

She shrugs. "Well, I like it. And anyone who doesn't can eat my shorts." Aunty Tana's going to get firm talking to if Beth ever uses that one against somebody. But right now, I just laugh and smile broadly at this beautiful creature that I created. She laughs a little bit with me before growing very serious again. "Did you have me with a girl?"

I gulp. Loudly. "N-No, sweetie. Um…" I search desperately for any idea that might make sense that isn't the truth, but isn't necessarily a lie either. "I had you because I just loved you _so _much. And a lot of people loved you, too. Just like we do now."

"But was it with a girl?"

I think back to that night with Puck. I was a little drunk and feeling tragically insecure. And then I think of how I tried with him. I tried to make it work, for all of us, but he was just a boy. And I was growing up; I was changed. Then I remember who was there with me throughout the pregnancy. Who stuck with me when Beth was born. My mother, Santana, and Rachel. They were there every day, in every capacity. "Yes, baby. It was with a girl."

"Was it Rachel?" She asks excitedly.

Oh god. This is fucking hard. Why? Why now? At ten in the morning over pancakes and Justice League? "Rachel was there."

"And then she wasn't." Beth says with finality. I nod and smile sadly at her. "But now she is again?" I can almost see her train of thought passing between her ears. Sometimes I wish she weren't so smart. "Will she go away again?"

She's not scared or sad. She's just genuinely curious. I, on the other hand, am about to cry. I'm so terrified. I honestly thought I'd have more time before this started. More time to for Rachel to figure things out. More time for _us_. I can't just sit here and promise my child that this new person won't ever leave again. Because I don't know that yet. Rachel's been terrific this past week, but it's only been a _week_. And Beth usually takes some time to warm up to people. Just another way that she's so like me.

Beth's sincere voice breaks me from my inner freak out. "It's ok, Mommy. We'll always have us." She smiles brightly at me and shoot up to go over to her and just hold her while she finishes her cartoons.

We sit quietly for a while and I try not to cry into my daughter's hair. I'm calming down now, but that was all very unexpected. It felt sharp, somehow. But as soon as the credits start going, Beth turns to me and says, "So. There's this one girl in my class that's real pretty and nice." I shake my head of it's cobwebs so that I can keep with her. "Her name's Becca. She likes Spiderman more than Batman, but that's ok, I guess."

"Yeah?" I ask, not really understanding why she's bringing it up. She's been in her school for two months now and I've never heard the name Becca.

Beth bites her lip and fidgets with my hand for a moment. "What were you and Rachel doing earlier?" This is officially the hardest day of my life. I may as well give her the sex talk over dinner. "I mean, you were kissing, right?"

"Yes."

"Because you both like girls."

I squint and tilt my head, but just say, "Yes."

"I think I wanna do that with Becca."

Oh. "Oh?"

"I mean, I saw Tana do it sometimes, and I see it in movies sometimes." I nod for her to continue. "It looks fun." She finishes quietly.

It looks fun. You know what? I should actually call Santana, get her over here to take care of this. This is excruciating. I'll just lie and say that Beth got this idea completely from her. It's not a _whole _lie. Maybe I can use two dollars for the swear jar to barter with. Hm. Talking to my kid about kissing (girls)? Or hearing her scream 'fuck an asshole!' to birds at the park for the next month? Tempting, but… "It can be fun." Nice, Q. "You know, if it's with someone you like." Wow, this might actually turn out strikingly similar to the sex talk. "If they wanna do it, too, of course." Back up. Lay down the law. "But… it's kind of for older people." I finish lamely in a statement that really sounds more like a question.

"But I wanna do it with Becca now. A-And we're older than the kids in my preschool." She says argumentatively, and I can't help but smile at her logic.

"Yes, but even older people than you."

"But… Mom, she's so pretty!"

"Why don't you invite Becca over to the house some time?" I suggest.

"O. K." She huffs and crosses her arms before standing and bringing her dirty dishes to the kitchen sink. This is going to be a _long _day.

* * *

**AN2: So there you have it. I just wanted to give you guys kind of an insight into what Quinn's thinking and feeling, and how she's gonna deal with Beth's questions. I don't know how long or how often I'll stay in her POV. Hopefully, you guys enjoyed it and I'll be able to scrounge up a little more it another time. This fic will remain primarily in Rachel's POV, though. Anyway, let me know what you think! See you next time!**


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: I am so, SO sorry for the wait, you guys. I feel like such an asshole. But seriously, thank you all for the reviews and alerts.**

**Now I would like to remind everyone that this is AU. Quinn was a bitch until she fell pregnant with Beth. Then she wasn't. They're taken care of in that sense. Rachel's not going to give her heart to Quinn only to have HBIC come out again and rip everything apart.**

**All right, now on with the chapter!**

**Disclaimer: Just a reminder that nothing is mine. At all.**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: Faith [When I Let You Down]**

There are over fifty movies (at least) sitting on a shelf that tell me how incredible love is. They all portray happy fools with no real concept of reality; all a nice break from life. There was a time I believed the lie; that someday when the guy got the girl, the girl would finally be me. But I find myself here now. Such a strange juncture of my life. Certainly not one that I'd anticipated while dating the quarterback in high school. Putting the fact that I've just been called back for a school musical aside, of course. That was always inevitable. 'Oh, she's so cocky. She's such a bitch.' Shut up. Have you heard me sing? Have you seen me act? I'm kind of awesome.

Back to the point of this righteously dramatic internal monologue: Quinn. Quinn Fabray.

Sweet, smart, stunning, _patient _Quinn Fabray.

I haven't watched a movie where the guy gets the girl in quite some time. It's seemed useless; uninspiring. And now I'm in this situation. A sort of relationship. Like something that I'm responsible for, suddenly. It feels pretty good. Great, even. It scares the shit out of me if I think about it for too long, but right now? In this moment? _I'm _that happy fool.

It's Saturday evening. I spent last night at Quinn's. Beth found us asleep together on the couch. Then kissing. I was a tad embarrassed but Quinn seemed to play it off.

And then there was that face. It was like looking into a tiny pale, blonde mirror. Who could have taught her that expression? Quinn doesn't make it. Santana seems like she would promptly inform Beth that that is a 'Berry face.' And from the little that I've seen so far, Beth listens to Santana. It's almost like she remembers. But she was so small back then; so impressionable. My whole body buzzes with the idea that I might have impacted the life of a child. It's a sort of nervous energy that trail-blazes it's way from my ear down toward my hips and then makes my knees weak, but shoots back up to my brain to stroke my ego before repeating. It's much like the feeling I get when Quinn smiles at me.

Quinn changed after Beth was born. Even just after she found out she was pregnant. I'd catch her in side-eyed glances every day at school. She wore this new expression that I'd never associated with her before. It was a vulnerability and a certain sorrow that at first, I was determined to fix any way that I could. My brain came up with crazy, half-baked plans to get close, and when I'd approach her I'd freeze. I'd gaze into those amber eyes and nothing seemed good enough.

Much like the duration of our relationship, Quinn set the tone back in high school by coming to me first. I had coerced Piano Man Brad into staying an hour after Glee to play while I 'blew his mind with my impeccable vocal styling.' He had nodded his head up and down or back and forth until we'd come to the agreement that I wouldn't ask that of him again for the rest of Sophomore year _and _all of Junior year. There must have been some life and death performance coming up that I don't seem to remember right now.

But anyway, it had been all for naught. Because as soon as Brad had agreed to that arrangement (without muttering even a single sound) Quinn walked through the door of the choir room and asked to speak to me. _Alone_. I remember rolling my eyes at the way Brad shot up off of the stool and power-walked out of the room.

_Her belly is slightly swollen now. She looks radiant as ever. I haven't said a word since she entered. That seems to be the case nowadays, when Quinn's around. My tongue disappears and I turn into a monosyllabic imbecile like… _Brad_. _

"_Can we sit?" She asks in that silky smooth voice. I simply nod once and futilely attempt to hide my grin at her own beaming smile as I follow her to the couple of chairs on the bottom tier. Once we've settled, her hands resting on her belly, she speaks again. "I just wanted to talk." Well, I assumed as much. But still, I just nod and give her an interested smile that hopefully covers my nerves. She huffs a light laugh before inquiring, "Are you going to talk at all?"_

_It takes me a moment to realize that I'm meant to say something… _anything_. "Yes." I mutter probably incoherently. So I clear my throat and try again. "Y-yes." Ok, good. Only a slight stutter. _

_For some unknown reason, Quinn blushes at my nervousness. It's beautiful. I momentarily loathe the fact that this baby is half of Puck but then brush it off, not caring to analyze at the moment. Quinn Fabray wants to talk._

"_I guess I don't really know where to start." She says, almost apologetically._

_I reach for one of her hands and feel a jolt of something at touching her pregnant belly. But I collect myself just in time to catch her surprised eyes boring into my own, just as surprised but for wholly different reasons. "Just tell me, Quinn." I smile reassuringly._

_She seems lost for a moment, but then sucks in a long breath before slowly saying, "I'm so sorry." I go to wave my free had in dismissal, ready to inform her that no apology is necessary even thought it definitely is. "No." She catches me before I can start. "What I've done to you is… its bad, Rachel." She squeezes my hand gently. "But I need to know that I'm so, so sorry. I-if I could just take it back-"_

"_But you can't." I interrupt. She looks so broken now. How could my forgiveness mean so much to her? Of course she has it, wholeheartedly. "Everyone gets caught up, Quinn. But I want to move on. I want us to move on." And I don't know what drives me to do it, but I caress her stomach with our conjoined hands a few times until I notice that she's crying. That breaks me out of whatever daze I'm under so that I can move my free hand to wipe her tears away. _

The smile she gave _to me _was so brilliant. I have no other words.

We were different after that. How could we not be?

And now, thinking back on that day when our entire future changed and was possibly sealed _together_, I want to collapse. Who have I been kidding all this time? Did I honestly even try with Finn? With anyone? That day was the first day of this life I have with Quinn. We're linked; meant to be, somehow.

The fear is back, but it's so _sweet _this time. I could live and die in this fear if it meant that I could be in love with Quinn Fabray one day.

It's too soon, though. I can't just blurt this out. Would she even believe me at this point? I wouldn't. There's so much time between us; so many things that we didn't do right. That I didn't want to do right. It's hitting me now, how hard this might be. I need to virtually start over with Quinn in a way that doesn't negate our past. I'm ready, though. I'm ready.

* * *

This is ok, right? To just show up? I have flowers. That sounds right. Ok, now… raise hand. Knock. Again. Again. There. Good job, Rachel. I run through the chorus of 'Don't Rain On My Parade' to calm my nerves. It doesn't help. I'm rethinking everything now. I should have called first. I should have at least texted. But isn't this romantic? Spur of the moment, and all that? The knob turns and I hold my breath.

"Hi." Quinn says excitedly… I hope. "Come here, come in. It's kinda chilly out."

"Yeah. Um, thanks." I reply nervously. Then she wraps an arm around my shoulder and everything's ok. I'm all right. This might have actually been the right move.

"I texted you about your audition…" She trails off, leaving me room to shrug off my coat after setting my presents down on the kitchen counter.

"I wanted to surprise you." It's nearly a squeak, but she lets it go and simply raises her questioning brow. "Um, I brought you these." I spit out, holding up the little bouquet of lilacs.

"Thank you." She says genuinely, if not a little surprised, with a deep blush in her cheeks and takes them from me presumably to put in water.

I smile what I'm sure is a very goofy smile at having done this right. "And I also brought this." I say taking out a bottle of champagne and one of apple cider from the paper bag I've been holding. She looks up and eyes the bottles before looking to me expectantly. "To celebrate."

"Oh my god! Rae!" She runs from behind the bar in the kitchen to wrap me up in a full hug.

"Well, it's a little premature. It's just a call-back." I say through a laugh, but hoping that that information won't lose me my hug.

"Oh, it's yours and you know it." She whispers into my ear. It melts me into the embrace. After a silent moment, reveling in each others scent, Quinn speaks. "This is the best surprise."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

We share another few moments of silent bliss before, "Mom? I'm done!"

Quinn pulls back with a laugh and says, "I'll be back in a few," and placing a quick peck on my lips before floating down the hallway.

I smile at her retreating form (and let my gaze travel to her plump ass) until she turns the corner, which I think leads to the bathroom. When she disappears from my line of sight I go to the kitchen to put the champagne and cider into the freezer to cool it down after my walk over here. After that I think I might linger by the couch but then relent and sit on it. It' not awkward. That quick peck was kind of like Quinn saying 'Make yourself at home,' right?

"Beth, honey… No! No shaking!"

I giggle to myself. That little girl is rambunctious in the best way possible. She's really a lot different than I thought she'd turn out. I predicted her general demeanor to be akin to Quinn's. But it's clear that she's Noah's kid. My teeth inexplicably grind at that thought. Well, not completely inexplicably. Because now I'm reassuring myself that I hardly ever have to think about that. I don't really ever need to acknowledge the fact that _Noah Puckerman _had a child with Quinn Fabray. It's a little disgusting to me. I wasn't sure why until the first time Quinn kissed me. But when her lips pressed to mine, it was clear that I'd never wanted anyone else to be that close to her. And now sitting on her couch in the large apartment that she lives in with her daughter that is the spawn of _Noah Puckerman_, I'm jealous again. I've got to get a lock on it, though. He's not in the picture. Hasn't been for a while. We're ok. I'm ok here.

"Get dressed."

"Mom!" Beth whines.

"We have company, you can't just be naked, sweetie." I hear Beth huff before I hear Quinn laugh and her footsteps start down the hallway. "She hates clothes." She smiles at me before sitting next to me on the couch and curling into my side.

"Even pajamas?" I ask as I wrap an arm around her shoulders.

"Yeah, she only wants Princess Batman."

I nod my head slowly and begin running my fingers through her honey hair. "It's getting long again." I comment, almost dreamy.

"I need to cut it."

"You don't _need _to."

"You like it longer?" She shifts just enough so that we can look at each others face.

"Just long enough to do this." I smirk, my fingers tangling up in her hair and combing through it gently.

Quinn rolls her eyes at me, but a smile tugs at her lips anyway. "Maybe I'll leave it for a while." She says, resting her head back onto my shoulder. I lean down slightly to simply rest my lips on her forehead. This feels so sickeningly domestic… and I love it.

"You guys look funny." Beth provides, walking out of the hall and settling in the lounge chair on the other side of the living room.

"Do we?" I ask as I feel Quinn's laughter shaking her body against mine.

"Yeah. Mommy, you look like how I do with you. And Rachel, you're in my seat."

"Honey." Quinn tries to reprimand through a giggle, layered with my own. Beth just pulls this face as if to say, 'I'm right.' It's a Quinn face. It makes me laugh even harder.

"If you guys are girlfriends now, it's ok." That shuts me up.

_Girlfriends_?

This is something we've not yet discussed.

Quinn, presumably sensing my sudden discomfort (I hope she's not too disappointed), sits upright and tosses Beth the remote control for the television. "You wanna cartoon?"

"Yup." Beth says simply before turning on the tv and immediately starts flipping channels.

There're a few minutes of silence then. I'm looking at Quinn looking at Beth; Beth is looking at the screen. "Rachel brought you a treat, sweetie."

Beth's eyes get humorously wide and she turns the television off completely before looking between her mother and me expectantly. "Um… thank… you?" She says unsure of how to get this treat. She has the biggest smile on her face, all teeth.

Quinn snorts a laugh before rising from the couch. I kind of _immediately _miss her body. "I'll go get it."

"Do you need help?" I ask quickly, not fully comfortable with the idea of being in a room with Beth… alone. It would be the first time.

"Nope. I got it." Quinn says as she disappears into the kitchen. I whip my head back around to face Beth.

Ok, Rachel. She's five. You can do this. She's a kid. You're… not.

Oh, but that devilish grin on her face is disconcerting, to say the least. "H-Hey…" I stutter out through a nervous laugh. That grin belongs to Santana. That grin belongs to bad news.

"Hey."

That's it? Aren't kids supposed to be super talkative? Like, never shut up about kindergarten or preschool or whatever? Oh god, my palms are sweating. Right now, every single time I turned my back on Quinn's expectant or loving or serious face is flashing through my mind. A series of failures; let downs. A long string of thoughts that ends with, 'That's her kid.' Oh my god, that's her kid.

"How come Tana doesn't like you?" Beth finally speaks, that little grin still in place.

"Still?" My brows furrow and I spit it out, realizing a second later that that was probably an incriminating thing to say.

She gets this thoughtful look on her face and she looks passed me for a moment before boring into me again. "I guess not." The grin is gone. My pulse is back. "But you're Berry, right?" I nod slowly. "Right. She didn't like you at. all. for a while. Like, as long as I can remember." She says, sounding more like a child now and less like a crooked CIA agent.

"We never really got a long."

"Until now?"

"I guess."

"How come?"

Because I treated your mom like shit. "I wasn't very nice."

"To who?" Uh oh… angry Beth. "My mom?"

Kids are so much fucking smarter than anyone gives them credit for. This is the direction the conversation (interrogation) has been leading to the entire time. She knows. Not details, but Beth _knows_.

"Sometimes." It's all I can say.

Beth stares at me, a hard stare, for the longest few seconds of my life. Her face softens into this expression that's all her own; disappointed in a way that a five year old should never be. "You made her sad."

Pulse gone. Heart dropped.

The air is thicker than it was just minutes ago. My lungs are empty, chest static. Tears are burning in the corner of my eyes and I feel like running. What else can I do? Do I just sit here and wait for Quinn to come back with the alcohol? Champagne will never bury this. It won't be enough. And then I realize the options I've given myself: Run away or get drunk.

This is how a child behaves. Someone who hasn't learned how to control themselves yet. Someone who takes the easy way out. Someone who doesn't deserve to be around Beth. Someone who doesn't deserve Quinn. To be a part of their lives, to deserve them, to deserve _her_… one needs to be brave. One needs to makes decisions.

"I'm trying really hard, Beth." I croak out around the lump in my throat.

The tiniest flicker of a smile pulls at the corner of her mouth, but it's more in her eyes. "Good."

"All right." Quinn's delighted voice breaks this tension and I have to clear my throat and blink a few times to recover. Or at least appear recovered. "We've got cider for the lady." She says playfully and holds a glass out to Beth. Irish crystal, I think. Beth squeals, 'The fancy cups!' and I can't help but smile. "And champers for the grown ups." She winks at me before handing me a glass and reclaiming her spot next to me on the sofa. Quinn hangs her legs over my thighs and I rest my free hand on one of hers. But then I look to Beth. I don't want her to think that I'm comfortable, because I most definitely am not. But the little girls raises her brow and nods once. Oxygen fills my lungs again. Tonight's going to be ok.

* * *

Before Beth scampered off to bed, she actually gave me a quick peck on the cheek and thanked me for her treat. I smiled so wide it made Quinn look at me a little funny. But the older woman kissed me on the lips anyway and requested that I stay a while longer.

So here I am. Finishing my second glass of champagne, I set the empty glass on the table next to me and take a long, slow breath. I let my eyes close as I exhale through my pursed lips and try to remember that I'm changing from what Beth knows about me. I'm going to be different. I already am. So just _breathe_.

"You ok?" Quinn's footsteps were so light I didn't even hear her walking down the hall. But now I feel her weight leaning into my body once again and I open my eyes to look into her own golden ones.

"Yes." I say with a content smile on my face. She looks at me assumingly for a moment before her face softens. I lean in to kiss her fully.

She pulls away before I see fit, but I'm following. I'm letting Quinn lead. She rests her delicate palm on my cheek and makes soft swipes with the pad of her thumb, just beneath my eye. Those golden orbs bore into me like a warning sign. I've known her long enough, even if I've just recently begun to let us _be_ - we're about to have a talk. If she knew about the talk I had with Beth, she might just keep kissing me; take pity on me. It seems the humane thing to do. But alas, her pink lips part and words fall out.

"So…" There is a moment where I assume we both know what she'll say next and she's just giving me a moment to prepare. Or redirect. But it comes, as imminent as winter. "Girlfriends?"

I exhale a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. But this seems lighter than I thought it might. I thought it might send into some kind of dizzying epiphany about life and love and forever. But everything is just still. Quinn is still, only her almond eyes dart between my own, waiting for me to say _something_.

"Yeah." I finally say, lamely. She cocks her brow at me and a familiar grin tugs at her lips. Courage rages through my veins, searching for a way to my mouth so that my tongue may expel it. "That sounds…" Honesty. Bravery. Quinn. "Nice."

She looks taken aback for a moment before schooling her features into a gentle smile. But her thumb on my cheek has ceased movement and I know it's not what she expected.

What else could we be? No. That isn't the right question.

What else do I _want _us to be? … Nothing.

In the most selfish sense, I would like all of my feelings of fear and apprehension and jealousy and smite to be validated. But in reality, I would like so much more than that.

"Nice?" She finally asks.

"Yeah… that sounds really nice, actually."

Her teeth shine in the lamp light and her eyes sparkle. I feel like a champion, and I'm not even really sure why. Maybe it's just that _Quinn _makes me like a victor. Some old-fashioned, Tony Curtis or Marilyn Monroe paramour. It feels nice, too. In fact, all of this feels so much better than nice. I could sing a song about it. Hell, the kiss I'm locked in now makes me think I could _write _a fucking song.

Again, she pulls away before I would have preferred. Although, I'm sure Quinn knows that if we always did things the way that I would prefer them, we might die of kiss-induced asphyxiation.

"Do you know what lilacs are?" She asks breathlessly.

"Flowers?" I reply sarcastically, which earns me a mini-tickle in the ribs. We squirm a moment and somehow Quinn ends up with her ass in my lap, legs stretched out passed mine and her arms wrapped around my neck. "I think I knew once, but not anymore."

"That makes so much sense." She says, a little dreamy, but totally serious. I screw my eyebrows up in confusion and I coax her with a light squeeze of her thigh. "They mean 'first love.'"

I can't help my smile. The idea scares me a little, but most things with Quinn do nowadays. "That does make sense."

* * *

**AN2: Thanks for reading! Again, sorry for the long wait. That won't happen again. Let me know what you think?**


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: Oh my god, I am SO sorry this has taken so long. There's really no excuse. And the only explanation I've got for you is that life's been kicking my ass lately. Raise your hand if you've been unable to even write because your thoughts are too jumbled? It's been a little rough. But anyway, enough of that. **

**Thank you SO much for sticking with me, I can't thank you guys enough. You guys are so encouraging in your reviews. Thank you.**

* * *

**Chapter 12: Feeling This**

"And Beth's birthday?"

"That's not 'til April."

"Yeah, but can I come?"

"If you'll want to."

My fingers weaving through her golden locks don't stop. Low humming sounds occasionally escape her pink lips as I massage her scalp. We've just been here, on this couch, in her home. At some point I tucked myself into the corner and Quinn's head rests upon my lap, hair splayed beautifully. We've been talking. Things that need to be said are being casually tossed into conversation. This is the way I need it to happen, and Quinn understands.

"Why wouldn't I want to?"

"I just…"

She falls silent. The easy flow has been interrupted, but my fingers move still; crown, neck, halo.

"What?"

A beat and then, "I don't want to get my hopes up."

It's mumbled and gently given to the air, like she's worried I might take offense. And just what right would I have?

"We're very new." I can feel her nod against my fingers, another hum of contentment. Quinn is so _good_. Within seconds, she's resigned her comment to my own convoluted reply. A thought strikes me now, how I need to fix that. I cannot have her expect nothing from me anymore. I need her to assign responsibility to me. I have no doubt that she won't be taking any more of my shit ever again, but she deserves more than just _not bad_. "But I wanna be with Beth on her birthday." My tone is strong; unwavering. I believe in this statement.

Soft honey locks slowly pull away from my hand and slightly darker brows are furrowed above the most brilliant shade of - just _gold _- that I've ever seen. The emerald flecks glisten in the low light and there is one in her right eye that isn't in her left. It's uneven and asymmetrical and imperfect and I think I might be in love.

"Please." It's a plea, pushed out through her open lips and those entrancing orbs disappear for a few long moments. Her chest is rising and falling at a steady pace and it distracts me from the movement of her arm. But suddenly I feel her hand on top of my own and she pulls them both to her cheek; warm and soft like the rest of her. My thumb takes action on it's own, caressing her cheekbone, just beneath her fluttering lashes. They pop open; my breath catches. "Please don't just say things like that."

All I can think to do is to hold her gaze the best that I can. And then something better smacks me upside the brain. I hesitate, only slightly, until I realize that I mean it. So I lean down and press my open lips to hers so that they meld and slide against one another. I bring my other hand to her opposite cheek and pull her closer still, just… _kissing _her. And when I pull away I rest my forehead against hers and say, "Never again."

"I love you."

Bubble bursts. Heart palpitates. Stomach drops.

A whispered confession, one that I might have seen coming, has rendered me breathless. But how, this time? I am not angry or scared. I am overwhelmed, but by what?

I'm sure I look a sight as my mouth opens and closes several times, no sound escaping my throat. Quinn just smiles against my lips, kisses me firmly and says, "Don't say anything. I just need you to know that."

And it's then that my body sags into the cushions, fingers resuming their languid exploration of the strong shell that covers her beautiful brain. A warm hand snakes its way just underneath the hem of my loose shirt and rests, splayed out against my abdomen.

"I've never… felt like someone loved me just because." Trust is something Quinn earned from me a long time ago. However quietly I might murmur this confession, it's something I need her to know. She has to know that this is different. _I'm _going to _be _different. The soft press of her lips through my jeans is reassuring and imploring. "I always thought I had to _do _something."

Her hand starts drawing indecipherable patterns on my inner thigh and I shiver once.

"You just keep doing what you're doing, baby."

_Baby_. That's me.

I smile broadly though Quinn can't see my face. But both her hands stop moving and she's sputtering on what must be an apology. I'll have none of it.

"Sit up." I nearly demand through a giddy giggle as I tug on the sleeves covering her lithe shoulders. When she's upright I immediately pull her into my lap and take gentle hold of her chin, one hand still tangled in her hair. I don't know that I've ever seen this particular blush before. "Hey." I whisper gently, urging her chin upward so that I might reach her gaze. "Hey." Golden irises meet mine and there's an embarrassed smile tugging on those plump, pink lips. "I like that."

The smile is threatening to take over her face now. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." I smile into her lips and take the bottom one between both of my own and suck. A moan rumbles up from the back of her throat and I release right before I dart my tongue into her mouth, eliciting a high-pitched whimper from Quinn. The languid tango that has become so familiar still feels new now. Just the wetness of her tongue sends my mind straight to the gutter and I passively wonder what other parts of Quinn I might be able to make wet. That thought hits me right upside the brain when she moves to straddle my thighs, her skirt lifting slightly above what might be considered appropriate. Good thing I'm a horny teenage boy…

I pull back just enough to begin trailing kisses along her jaw. There is a quiet protest, but it is sated when both my hands grab handfuls of her bare thighs, ever mobile and intent on that ass.

"_Baby_…" Quinn moans, apparently more comfortable with the slight slip of her tongue just minutes ago. Reassurance is everything, and this time I deliver in the form of a gentle nip to her throat. One of her hands snakes its way into my hair, massaging my scalp. The sound that I make then can only be described as a growl and I suck at her love-bite a bit before lathing it with my soothing tongue. "Rae, baby…"

Am I supposed to love a term of endearment this much? Are these reactions normal? Well, I guess I can't honestly say that I care in this moment. This moment that has Quinn's hips thrusting forward into the air that lingers between our heated bodies. This moment that has her letting me palm her ass for the first time in… _for-fucking-ever_.

Now I can assist her grinding - into nothing - while I suck at her neck, leaving proof and _me_. Her moans are becoming throatier and my stomach is in the most delicious knots.

I know what we agreed to. And I know that it has been, by no means, enough time to constitute 'abstaining.' We could easily pass the last week off as not having had enough time for this, though I've now pounded it into my head that I _can't have Quinn_. But now, I _just _want her. And she wants me, too.

"_Baby_." It feels foreign on my tongue, but I simply dive back into Quinn's sweet expanse of skin, now placing slight bites to her protruding collarbone. She moans again. I feel incredible. Better than I've felt in… a while, if ever.

Quinn loves me.

Quinn loves me.

I'm in-

"Are you not wearing anything?"

All I get in response is, "Too many clothes."

Thongs aren't really Quinn's thing, but when I felt her ass bare, I had assumed that was the explanation. But my greedy fingers have been itching to feel more of her under that skirt for whole _minutes _now. And now I can feel, without a doubt, that there is _nothing _underneath that skirt. "Oh…" It's a slightly surprised, but mostly desperate moan as I brush my thumb across her clitoral hood. She's soaked. Oh, god. "Oh, _Quinn_."

She hasn't stopped me yet. In fact, the sounds she's making sound incredibly like an affirmative, possibly a demand. Maybe it's just me but her thrusting certainly hasn't ceased. I think I might need to give her something to _feel_, finally.

One hand stays firmly grasping her ass, pushing her into my recently relocated hand. My free fingers slide through her folds easily, slick with her desire. She tugs on my hair harshly and brings my head to the side, burying her face in the crook of my neck and shoulder, stifling her moans. My thumb continues it's quest of bringing her clit out of its hood. She's writhing. "Baby." She's whining. I'm not sure I can do any kind of build up tonight. I just want her to come apart for me. _Now_.

The room loses all of its air as I enter a single finger into her. Our breaths hitch and her body tightens, her sex pulling me in deeper. The feeling of being inside of Quinn again has me completely lost to any sound, and all I feel is warm breath finally caressing my neck and wet walls pulsing around my finger. I set a steady pace; not tortuously slow but not as fast as we're used to. I can feel her hips writhing to meet my firm thrusts and her jagged breath moving a strand of my hair just slightly. It's like coming up from under water as my ears finally focus on her sharp moans, muffled by my skin. But I'm able to make out 'more.' And so I add a second finger, literally _feeling _how I stretch her walls.

"Ugh, Rae."

Her hips move faster and I match her pace. It's not as hard as we liked it to be in the last year, but it's easy and beautiful and I don't think I'd be able to change this exact moment even if Quinn begged me to.

"Oh, god. Yes, yes, Rae. Oh, fuck! Rae!"

She's so snug already - and when her body tenses a second time and the only part of her that is moving is her… _love _- I feel like I might be right there with her.

I've slowed considerably, but have not ceased movement, helping her ride out her orgasm. The way that she's fluttering around me makes me feel at home and it makes me want to start her up again so that I can push her over again. But then something strange happens; something that I have _never _experienced before. Quinn shifts slightly, one of her thighs brushing against my center, and I cum.

It's certainly not the most intense orgasm I've ever had, but there's no doubt. The way that I was feeling moments earlier, _feeling _Quinn cum against me… And of course, all of the signs are so familiar. The way I tense and seem to roll my entire body before I relax. Now I am like putty on the sofa and Quinn just drapes herself over me, my fingers still inside.

"Did you just…" Quinn questions in wonderment.

"I think so." I reply breathlessly.

"Wow."

"Yeah."

"Has that ever-"

"No."

There are a few beats of silence, but then I feel her smile against my neck and I breathe out, "Perfect."

"Yeah."

I kiss the crown of her head, still nestled into my collarbone. I begin pulling out of her and when my fingers feel cold and sticky, there is that same whimper at the loss. Of being completely full _and _of being so wrapped up.

"I love you."

I breathe harshly for a few more seconds, still willing my body to calm down after my near-spontaneous orgasm, but then I settle. And I have no idea what to say. She said I didn't have to say it back, but it seems silly to say nothing. So what? It needs to be something that doesn't sound scared; something that encourages the idea of me eventually being able to say it back.

But I can't. Not yet. I can't say _that _out of the nervous energy that accompanies my solitary awkward feeling in this moment.

So I settle for, "I know, baby."

* * *

We snuggled for Sondheim knows how long. I carried Quinn to bed; her legs wrapped around my waist and her arms around my neck, giggling magnificently into my ear. It wasn't as long a trip as I thought it might turn out to be. I only staggered a few times, which made Quinn laugh so hard she had to bury her face in my hair so that we wouldn't wake Beth. But when Quinn had told me to put her down, I had refused, claiming some deservedly superior handling of her dainty self. Duh.

And now I'm falling into bed, completely satisfied and sated. Quinn didn't have to do anything to me; _she's _just amazing. This girlfriend thing could be awesome.

* * *

**From Quinn: can we talk about last night?**

My response is **of course, when and where?**

But my _actual _response? Hyperventilating, pacing, reading and rereading the original text. My brain's circuits are shooting every which way; yelling at me that I should have asked first, whispering gently that it had been perfect.

And it _had _been perfect. _We _were perfect.

So what do we need to talk about? I know there was that time when Quinn said we should hold off on mutually mind-boggling orgasms, and I know that time was _maybe _a week ago. But she was ok, wasn't she? She wanted it? She wanted _me_?

My phone buzzes on my desk and I basically jump across the room to see.

**From Quinn: I'm at Rosie's right now**

Right now? Oh god. Oh _god_! I don't wanna do it! I don't wanna do it!

_SMACK_

Literally just slapped my own face. It was completely necessary.

All right, closet. I need to get dressed. Clothes, clothes, clothes. Honestly, this feels like a first date with head cheerleader Quinn Fabray, which is ridiculous. I need to calm down, take a Xanax, or something. Ok, I'll settle for some deep breathing... while picking out some shoes. Ooh! These. Definitely these.

* * *

"I'm sorry! My closet would _not _cooperate and I just-"

"It's ok, Rachel." I finally stop avoiding looking at her face, only to be met with a warm (if not slightly amused) smile. "Sit, please?" She asks sweetly. And so I do.

She simply sits across from me and continues to smile for what must be an entire minute. And I find myself smiling back easily. An hour ago I thought we might have to have the 'no sex' talk again, but now I'm... I'm _fine_.

"So..." My breath catches, waiting for anything; ready. "Last night was... incredible." I imagine I must look like a fool right now, what with how broad my smile has gotten. My head nods slowly and Quinn giggles prettily. "I think we should do that more often."

"Really?"

I know I sound like a teenaged boy, but I honestly can't bring myself I care right now.

"Yeah." Yes! "It hasn't been as long as I originally planned-"

"I know, I know should have made sure first."

"Rachel." Her warm palm covers my nervously shaking hand and I still immediately. "I would've stopped you if I didn't want it." She reassures me. "And I really wanted it." I smile even harder when her eyes dart away for a second and the most beautiful rouge colors her cheeks. "And obviously you broke me since I could only approach the subject like a teenaged boy."

"I was just thinking that!" Her eyebrow quirks and... oops. "I mean a-about myself." Wow, Berry. She just laughs and I allow myself to join her.

"I think I knew that." She says sarcastically. And then she winks. I literally melt.

It must show in my face somewhere - maybe my cheeks have flushed or my eyes have grown hazy - but the smirk tugging at Quinn's lips and the immediate dilating of her pupils says everything; she knows she's got me. I think she must have always known.

My mind leaps back to Senior year, when Quinn first kissed me. She was so brave, so _sure_. Yes. She's always known, but I'm in the mood to play.

"Do you know what you do to me?" I ask her lowly, my voice already more gravelly than even I thought it would be yet.

Her smirk turns into a shy smile and she ducks her head, averting her knowing gaze from my lustful one. This is certainly not the first time she's done this. Before, I liked to pretend that she was being coy, playing along with some fantasy that we thrust ourselves into every time we touched. But now… I see. Now I can see that beneath that vibrato and courage that she exuded in our initial years, Quinn is just a girl. She's always been this girl; giggling and teasing, breaking and learning, kissing and fucking… _falling in love_. And this whole time, she's doing these things with me. And I'm _just now _realizing. And it's just everything.

Her soft, low voice breaks me from my thoughts when she finally answers me. "I imagine it's much the same of what you do to me." She keeps her head hanging lowly but darts her eyes to mine, a playful glint in those darkened orbs. "If I'm doing it right…" And then that smirk again.

"God, you might kill me." Oops. "I hadn't meant to say that out loud." My eyes slam shut in embarrassment and, to Quinn's credit, she is trying _very _hard to contain her laughter. Her pride, however, colors her chest a soft pink shade and there's no way she could ever hide the expressiveness of her eyebrows. "Or that."

"Well," she says, her giggles finally ebbing, before clearing her throat. "I'm glad you did say it out loud."

This is such a great way to spend a Sunday.

Wait… "Is this your Sunday?"

* * *

**AN2: So that's the pathetic thing I managed to crank out. There was ****some**** story development and I promise the next one will be contain much more and be up ****way ****sooner. How did I do with the lady loving? Was it bad? i kinda feel like it was bad. **

**Anything specific you guys want to see?**

**So sorry again. Please don't give up on me.**


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: I am SO sorry. Thank you all so much for being so patient. I don't really have any excuses except for plain old writer's block. This isn't too long, but I just wanted to get something out. Thank you for reading! Really!**

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen: I'll Need Sunshine, I'll Need Rain**

My brain won't work right. It's fuzzy and there's a pleasant hum reverberating in my ears. I can't think anything past, 'Jesus Christ!' That's the last thing Quinn said to me. I'd never heard her voice that high before. I'm not sure she's ever clamped so _tight_.

There's probably some stupid grin on my face. I can feel it crinkling the corners of my eyes. And there are lights. They swirl around the ceiling and I clench around Quinn's fingers - calm and still inside me, as mine are inside of her - in time with whatever song they're dancing to.

Honey blonde hair rustles its way into my view as Quinn shifts her body on top of mine. My hands remain in place; wrapped inside her hand and wrapped inside of _her_. But now her protruding hip bone is no longer poking into my abdomen. She's simply resting against me.

I close my eyes to better see the memory of us cumming together.

She had been sitting up, spread above me, ass resting against the tops of my thighs. She had stared into my eyes; she looked close and desperate for our end. So I gave it to her. And she repaid me in kind and in sync.

Bliss. Beauty. Lights.

This is what life could be. It could be cartoons with Beth, 'fighting' with Santana, gossiping with Kurt and just... _loving _Quinn.

Love.

Is that what this is? Is that what I'm in?

When I was in high school - when I was a child - I thought I was in love. Finn thought I was love with him. I'd even deluded myself to the point of nearly marrying him. The only reason I didn't was because of... of Quinn. I'd needed to be there _f__or her _instead of there _with him_.

Maybe I was in love when I was a child; just not with Finn. Only with Quinn. Only ever with Quinn.

But what if I still _am _a child? What if I'm deluding myself again, into thinking I can be a woman in love?

"How do you think so hard?"

Her husky voice accompanied by her warm breath against my neck snaps me out of it.

"I don't think so hard." She huffs. "I think _right_."

A small laugh, more of a breath, really, and then, "And what are thinking... _right _about now?"

My smile somehow becomes wider, because even in fledgling pondering of love, or not, I simply can't help it.

"Just you."

"Little, old me?"

"Yeah, just little, old you."

"What do you think about me?"

She's so playful, but the question means something more to her. I can tell because it means something more to me, too.

"I think... you're too smart for your own good, and you're passing it on to your inappropriately intimidating daughter." Her smooth, pale shoulders begin to shake with silent laughter. "I think you're incredibly strong, and you're giving Beth that, too." The laughter subsides as she curls her body further into mine and removes her slick fingers from within me. I sigh deeply and mimic the action. "I think your mind is someplace I'd like to live. I think you're absolutely lovely in everything that you do; even when you're yelling at me."

"I hardly ever yell at you." She replies indignantly.

"I know, but when you do."

"When I do, you deserve it."

"Let's not get into that."

Her head lifts and her eyebrow is raised at me. "Oh no, I think I'd like to get into that."

I place my hand at the back of her head and apply the smallest amount of pressure until she rests upon my chest again. "But I _think _we should get into it later because I'm being undeniably romantic."

After a pause, "Fine. Continue."

"Thank you, sweets." My eyes widen comically, I'm sure. But Quinn doesn't mention it, so I move forward. "I think you're lovely," I kiss the crown of her head. "And stunning." A kiss. "And patient." A kiss. "And an amazing mother and person."

She shifts her head just enough to look me in the eye. She's blushing beautifully and her breasts are snug against my abdomen, just below my own and I just want to love her all over again.

"Sweets?" She asks shyly.

My heart skips a beat; she did notice. "Cavities?"

A beautifully soft smile begins to bloom from her perfect, pink lips. "You called me sweets."

"I did."

"I like it."

Now my hearts beats in time with hers, I can feel it. Not a resting rate, but not 'I might hold you against the wall and fuck you' rate either. Somewhere in between. Like, an 'I think I have a big, fat more than a crush on you' rate. It's exciting.

"Good."

After a luxurious (shared) shower an a few more orgasms, its dinner time. Or breakfast. Or something. Beth will be home soon and she likes pancakes for dinner sometimes, I guess.

"Is Santana gonna stay?"

"I'm not sure."

"Oh."

"I am making enough for her. She stays for dinner sometimes."

"Cool." It's not that cool.

"You're not excited."

"Well, excited is a strong word."

"Rae, she's a really good friend and she loves Beth just as much as Beth loves her." I'm mildly distracted by her hips in those tiny little red shots, not to mention her thighs... and her ass. Cheerios shorts are fun.

"I know." Quinn keeps moving between the pancakes and the bacon and stretching for plates on the upper shelves.

"So, you two need to find some common ground because I will not have either of you firing away at each other in front of my daughter. She can't-"

"You look so sexy right now."

"-just listen to- What?"

"You look really sexy. I wanna go back to bed." I say as I make my across the kitchen and cup my hands over her hips.

"But we can't." She says lowly; teasingly.

"We could."

"The pancakes will burn."

"I wish I was taller than you."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I wanna throw you over my shoulder and take you back to bed." Her lashes flutter before her eyes roll back in her head. I kiss her nose, her cheekbone, her brow and finally tug at her ear. "Is that something you'd like?"

She whines sharply when I nip at her lobe and her knees buckle slightly. "Yes." Her whisper is almost pained. I move my lips to her neck and start nipping and licking, my hands traveling to the backs of her thighs and I lift her. She squeals excitedly.

And then there's the turning of a lock.

I sigh and Quinn pushes me off of her so that she can turn around and flip the pancakes. I let myself take a few backward steps to rest against the opposite counter just as Santana walks through the front door with Beth.

"Q? Some little blonde kid says she yours. I know that can't be though, because I got rid of her last Christmas."

"Tana! Put me down!"

Santana walks into the kitchen, Beth thrown over her shoulder and I'm so jealous.

"She knows a buncha stuff about you, though, so you might-" She finally sees me there.

"Hey." I mumble awkwardly.

"Please give me my child." Quinn says, taking Beth and swinging her onto her hip before Quinn lets the little girl flip a pancake onto a warm plate off to the side.

"What's up? You having dinner with us?"

"Yeah."

Santana gives me a surprisingly soft smile before turning to the two blondes. "Smells delicious." She says quietly to Quinn.

"Thank you. Just let us get the bacon and we'll be set. Maybe you two could set the table."

"I wanna do it!" Beth proclaims, struggling against Quinn's hip.

"All right, go for it baby girl." Quinn sets her down and Beth scampers off into the dining room. "Rae, could you bring her the silverware?"

I start. I'm looking between Quinn and Santana like an idiot and they're looking at me so expectantly. Well, Santana's smirking. It makes me think she knows something that I don't know. She must.

Quinn then smiles at me and says, "Or Tana, would you?"

"No, I need to talk to you."

"Oh." Quinn replies, somewhat surprised.

"I'll help her." I nearly croak out. And then grab the silverware and leave so that I don't have to see the looks on their faces again.

"Rachel, I've been out here forever." Beth sighs dramatically when I enter the dining room.

"I know, I'm sorry. I was just getting the silverware."

"That's ok! Thanks!" She grabs the utensils from my hands and begins setting the table. Forks on the left, knives and spoons on the right. So classy and only six.

"Did you and mommy have a good sleepover?" Beth asks innocently and I trip while standing absolutely still. I'm not sure how, but I've just tripped. "It's weird to have a sleepover during the day. Tana said that grown up sometime do, though. _I've _never had a sleepover during the day. But was it good?" She asks again, just as she finishes setting the table.

"It was great." I manage to squeak out and I smile widely at her.

Beth can't possibly know what her mother and I have _actually _been doing all day, but she knows it wasn't a sleepover in mid-afternoon either. I know because she gets the same look on her face that Santana just had in the kitchen.

Auntie Tana's been whispering in Beth's ear today.

Quinn and I have some explaining to do.

"That's pretty lipstick on mommy's neck, too, Rachel."

Shit.

* * *

**AN2: It's not really meant to be a cliffhanger, but I'm sorry if it feels that way. I just wanted to get something for you guys. Next chapter will be in Quinn's POV an****d will pick up with hers and Santana's conversation in the kitchen.**** It will be a much shorter wait time, I swear.**


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